No Turning Back
by WildMustangShadowfax
Summary: COMPLETE If she had never become a knight, then everyone dear to her might not be dead. It is her fault they are dead, she should be punished. But someone won't let her at the last moment. Someone who loves her with all his heart...
1. The Head of a Thief

Alanna of Trebond lurked in the shadows, unseen to all but the expert eye. She was a quiet, mysterious girl, that was the way she liked it. But her natural thirst to do good had led her astray. She only realized now, many, many years too late that she could never go back and redo it. If she had never come to the palace, it might not have happened, everyone she cared for might not have been dead. But they were, and it was late, much too late to redo it.

**_Disclaimer: _I do not own the characters, or the setting, those are Tamora Pierce's.**

**_Author's Note: _I know, I have about a million stories in progress right now, but when I get an idea, I start it, and that's the way it goes. **

**_Dedicated To: _Tortallanrider for being a great reviewer and an inspiration to write this. Please check out her stuff too.**

_**Chapter One**_

**Three Years Ago:**

Fifteen-year-old violet eyed Squire, Alan of Trebond sat on his bed, deep in thought. He had a secret, and one that he couldn't keep forever, but he couldn't think about that now. Right now he had more pressing matters.

A knock on the wooden door to his left brought him from his thoughts. Quickly, scrambling to his feet, and nearly falling over in the process, he made his way to the door and pulled it open.

Prince Jonathan of Conté smiled at him from the other side of the door. "Hello, Alanna," he said softly, pressing his way into the room past his unwilling squire.

Her guise shattered, Alanna snapped the door shut and rounded on her knight-master. "Of all the times to come and bother me, you had to choose now, Jonathan of Conté, didn't you? Now?"

Jon ran a hand through his thick black hair, his sapphire eyes shining with unshed tears. "I didn't think you'd want to be alone. I'm sorry, Alanna. I thought you'd want someone to stay with you. I miss him too you know."

That's when her whole face and will shattered. Alanna let out a choked sob, and then flung herself against Jon's chest, wrapping her arms around his back like a little child. But what was she to do? Her best friend besides the Prince himself was dead, and it was all _her _fault!

"Ssh." Jon put his arms around her shoulders and whispered softly in her ear, resting his chin on her head. At first Alanna found it hard to lean on him, she didn't get the feeling that he really cared. But then she felt warm tears begin to fall on her head, and knew that he was despairing the death of their friend as much as she.

The images flashed back to her, horrible and bloody. . .

"_Run!" George bellowed over the crowd. But Alanna couldn't leave him. She shoved her way through the crowd, pushing past all the people gathered to watch._

"_Be quiet!" The Lord Provost snarled. He pushed George's head down, nodding to executioner. "Let it be known, that George Cooper dies a thief. And not just a thief, but the King of Thieves. Let it be known that he dies a criminal."_

_Then the sword had come down._

_She felt herself choke a sob as his head rolled, and blood sprayed everywhere. Then the Lord had dropped the body, and George's lifeless body crumpled onto the stage. Horror washed over her in a great bloody cloak. _

"_NO!" _

"NO!" Alanna shoved back from Jon, pushing her back against the stone wall. Sweat covered her face, and her whole body was heaving as she breathed as though she had just run a thousand mile race. "NO!" Her throat hurt as she screamed, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. Then the images came over her again. . .

_George Cooper was seated atop his horse, and he and Alanna were riding down the country-side, talking merrily. It was one of Alanna's days off, and she had come into the town with Gary and Raoul. But the two knights had quickly made their own plans at the Dancing Dove, and Alanna had followed George into the meadows for a ride._

"_Ye kno'," he said, "I wish ev'ry momen' in life could be like this." He waved a hand, indicating the green meadow and the blue sky above. "And ye." He added. "Ye don' look like ye did tha' firs' day I saw ye."_

_Alanna offered an awkward smile. She didn't like where this was going. "I know I don't. I'm older now, and now I'm Squire Alan."_

"_Nah, I don' mean that." George smiled. "I meant ye look like Alanna now, not a Page or a Squire."_

_Alanna blushed. But he was still wrong. She couldn't look like Alanna, or she would be caught. "Well, maybe I do, but we should be going back. Gary and Raoul can't drink forever."_

_George gave her a lopsided grin. "Sure they can." But he turned his horse back to town nevertheless._

_When they had arrived in town, there had been general pandemonium. But somehow it seemed different from all those days with their usual chaos of townlife. That's when Alanna saw. Riding down the center of the street, carving a path with two sets of guards, was the Lord Provost, seated on a black stallion._

_George swore, and turned his horse down a side street. Alanna kept riding forward, her eyes locked on the Lord Provost. Then his eyes turned and locked on hers, and he had turned through the crowd, right for her. _

_He pulled his stallion to halt before her. "Squire Alan?" he questioned. "What are you doing in the town?"_

"_I came with Sirs Gareth of Naxen the Younger and Raoul of Goldenlake." Alanna shifted nervously in Moonlight's saddle, running the reins anxiously through her fingers. Her horse sensed her discomfort and tossed her head, her silver mane flying._

"_And who was that I just saw you with?" Lord Provost nodded towards the alley through which George had vanished._

"_Just a friend from town." Alanna sighed mentally, thankful she had thought of something so fast._

"_I see." He signaled for his men to look down the alley._

_The suspense killed Alanna as she waited nervously for word from Lord Provost's guards. At last they returned, George struggling between them. Her heart caught in her throat as she watched him struggle. But when their eyes met, he mouthed 'go'._

_Alanna shook her head ever so slightly, telling him that she wasn't leaving him for anything. But all around her she was scared. The buildings seemed to lean in on either side, and Moonlight thrashed now, feeling the discomfort of her rider._

_The Lord Provost hopped off his stallion. "George Cooper." He smiled. "At last I have caught you. And that is odd, because you always elude us. What made it possible that we could catch you?" Without waiting for an answer, he had signaled for his guards to take George to the palace. _

_The next day at dawn had been the execution._

"Alanna, calm down." Jon's voice was soft, but stifled with his own tears.

"NO!" Alanna crumpled into a little heap on the floor. Tears ran freely down both her cheeks, and her shirt was soaking through. Why did she always have to cry in front of Jon?

Jon sat down next to her, and leaned against her, putting his arms around her head. He kissed her hair softly and pulled her towards him. "We all miss him. Nothing can erase our pain. But we've got to go ahead and move on!"

"No, no, no!" Alanna sobbed. She sniffed, leaning against his shirt. "You know that the Lord Provost c-could never e-ever c-catch George! You know there was something else behind his murder. And murder it was. We have to find out Jon. Please, help me. Please." Alanna pulled back from him, and met his eyes. She pleaded him with her violet eyes sparkling from tears.

Jon stared at her for a long moment. Then he leaned in close, whispering in her ear, his face so close that his breathe tickled her ear. "I promise we'll find out who's behind George's death. I'll always be here for you, Alanna."

Jon put his arms around her, and the two best friends sat there on the floor, torn to bits by George's death, and both seeking comfort in the others arms. But little did either know that the death of a simple thief, even though he was their friend, would change more than they could ever imagine, and not in a good way.

**That's the end of the first chapter, hope you liked it. Please review!**


	2. A Sword Fight in her Head

Alanna stepped behind a bush, putting as much distance as possible between herself and the foul people who had ruined her life. They stood, calm, quiet, and uncaring as to all the death they had caused in the center of the courtyard, talking merrily and giving out toasts. It was Alanna's job to kill them all, to avenge her fallen friends. And kill she would.

_**Chapter Two**_

**Three Years Ago:**

"ARGH!" Alanna slammed her fist into the stone wall, and instantly regretted it. The pain that went spiking through her hand made her want to cry all over again. "This can't be happening!" she bellowed, rounding on Jonathan. "This can_not_ be happening!"

"I'm sorry!" Jon yelled, trying to get a word in edgeways over Alanna's rapidly swelling rage. She turned to slam her fist into the wall again, but he grabbed her shoulders and spun her to face him. "Alanna, please, calm down. It's just a ball!"

"And it's happening right when Lord Provost is giving his speech about the towns criminals!" Alanna roared, fighting against Jon's grip on her arms. "I want to know what he has to say!"

Jon kept his hands firm on her shoulders, and pushed her down onto the bed. "Please, I know it's not the best of situations. But there is _nothing _we can do by not attending it, except get in trouble."

"Lord Provost did this for a reason." Alanna stopped fighting Jon's grip on her as she began to think. "He didn't want everyone from the palace to know what his claim on criminal 'justice' would be, did he? Did he?"

Jonathan thought about it for a moment, and then sunk onto the bed beside Alanna. "Maybe he didn't," he agreed, thoughtfully. "Maybe you're right. It is possible that he didn't want Father to know about his ideas for criminal justice."

Alanna nodded, resting her tired body against Jon's side. Absently he put his arms around her, leaning his head on top of hers. "But why?" she inquired softly. A yawn escaped her lips. "Why wouldn't he want your father and the royal court to know about his ideas? Unless. . . unless they're truly cruel and unfair."

"Mmm."

Alanna snuggled closer to Jon, enjoying the warmth that passed between them on the cold fall day. She pushed herself against his chest, curling up into a ball against him. He put his arms all the way around her, resting on her too.

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Alanna had just finished pulling on her nicest pair of boots when someone -- presumably Jon -- knocked on the door that separated her quarters from her Knight-Masters. She pulled the door open and grinned at Jon as he stepped through, dressed royally in a blue silk shirt, silk tunic, and silk breeches, topped off with a little crown.

"How do I look?" Jon asked.

"Silly," Alanna replied, feeling that it was best to be honest. "How about me?"

"Squire Alan of Trebond at his best," Jon answered.

Alanna nodded. "All right then, let's go. The sooner we get this over with, the better, you got that?"

"Crystal."

Squire and Knight-Master stepped out in the long corridor, and set off for the ballroom that King Roald had chosen for this ball.

Through most of the night Alanna refilled wine glasses and the snacks that they served at the tables dressed in long white cloths. But from time to time Jon would call her over to dance with some of the Convent girls who wanted to know Jonathan's Squire. It was these times that annoyed Alanna beyond belief, because she felt as if Jon was trying to publicly humiliate her.

Near midnight the Alanna got a fifteen minute break from her duties, and she decided to take the time out in the garden, enjoying some fresh air. She walked out into the garden, taking in the fresh, crisp air of the autumn night. Glancing carefully around to make sure that no one was near, she knelt down to smell the roses, who were in the last of their season and would soon die for winter.

"Hello."

Alanna spun around quickly, nearly toppling over in her awkward haste. But Jon caught her before she fell down. "W-What are you doing out here?" Alanna felt the blush creep into her face to have been caught doing something as ladylike as smelling the roses.

"I wanted a break," he replied with a shrug. "It's hot and stuffy in there, not like it is out here. Out here it's cool and quiet. And I get the chance to talk to my Squire of course. Though, I hadn't expected you'd get a break tonight."

Alanna pushed a lock of flaming red hair back behind her ear and shrugged in reply. "I guess I got lucky to have a break. Is there something you've learned, say, about Lord Provost's criminal 'justice' plans?"

Jon shook his head, taking a step nearer. His sapphire eyes glinted softly in the moonlight from the clear, star-speckled sky above. Alanna felt her stomach turning to knots, though she wasn't sure why.

He reached down, touching her hair and pushing it away from her face. She shivered at his touch, not from the cold, but from the feel of his skin against hers. He leaned down, his face coming closer to hers.

Alanna could feel his breath against her face, she could smell the soap on his skin, the faint smell of roses about his hair. And then, his face was next to hers, and he leaned in a little more, his lips touching hers.

She leaned up into the kiss for a few seconds, his lips soft against hers, the knots in her stomach becoming the thrill of a swordfight that she wasn't sure if she could win. Images of joy flashed in her mind as the kiss deepened. He put his hands in her hair, kissing her passionately.

She could feel her mind sidestepping a swing from a sword, and crashing down on her opponents as she swung around. Elation filled her as she crashed on her opponents sword over and over again. The joy was pure and true, and she felt other happy things happen. She put her arms around Jon as she felt herself falling into her happy fantasies, all triggered by one passion filled kiss.

Then something happened. She won her swordfight, and she looked to the side of the field, and there was George, clapping his hands together and giving her that lopsided grin. And her heart fell, as she realized she would never see him again. Then he came over and scooped her up in his arms, and she was kissing him.

"STOP!" Alanna pushed herself away from Jon, stumbling backwards in such a hurry that she fell over backwards, landing painfully on her backside. A sob escaped her as she glanced up at the moon. She bit down on her lip, trying to squash the image of herself and George together. How was she to manage?

"What?" Jon knelt down before her, looking worried that in some way he had hurt her more than mentally. "What's wrong Alanna?" It surprised her how he could turn from the passionate Jon who had just kissed her, into Jon her friend so quickly.

"George." Another sob escaped her eyes. "I saw George. H-He was t-there i-in m-my th-thoughts." A sniffle came too, and then the tears fell freely, pouring down her cheeks and onto her tunic.

Jon put his arms around her, kissing her hair lightly, comforting her as she sobbed.

If only the one moment could last forever, but then they would be caught, and Alanna would be thrown out because she was a girl, and. . .

She stopped the images there. Pushing Jon away from her she stood up. She wiped the dried tears from her face, rubbing the tears from her cheeks and neck. Her eyes were swollen to the size of tomatoes, and she looked a mess, but she would have to bear her pain in silence, at least for the moment.

Squire and Knight-Master headed back into the ball, parting there ways at the door, pretending the kiss hadn't just happened. But they couldn't ignore it so easily, could they?

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Alanna was awoken by pounding on her door the next morning. Yawning and groping around for her breeches she sat up. She rubbed an anxious hand through her hair, and pulled her breeches on under her overlarge nightshirt. She grabbed the wrappings she used to hide her breasts and quickly wrapped them haphazardly under her shirt.

Running her hand a last time through her hair she stalked over to the door, trying, and failing, to stifle a gigantic yawn. She undid the bolts and pulled the door open, and was nearly plowed straight over by Gary.

He pushed into the room past her and started pacing back and forth.

"Gary, w-what's w-w-wrong?" Alanna yawned twice, failing to suppress either one. She sunk onto the bed and started to pull her boots on over her breeches.

"I haven't seen Jon since the ball last night," Gary said, only half talking to Alanna. "And it's nearly midday."

Alanna shrugged, pulling her second boot on. "So?"

"I'm worried about where he's gotten too. Have you seen him?"

Alanna glared at her friend. "You just woke me up, Gary. No, I haven't seen him because I've been sleeping until now." Her thoughts drifted for a moment and she remembered the kiss from last night, realizing that she wasn't sure she wanted to see him.

"Do you mind?" Gary asked, pointing towards the door to Jonathan's room.

"Not in the slightest." Alanna shook her head.

Gary stomped over to the door and pounded his fist on it. "_JONATHAN_!" he bellowed. "If you're in there, get out here this instant, I have _GOT_ to talk to you!

The door opened and Jonathan poked his tired head out. His black hair was sticking up at odd angles from the way he had slept.

"Yes, Gary?" he asked, yawning.

"I need to talk to you, alone, now."

Jon shook his head, "I've got company."

Alanna's heart fell. She'd met Jon's 'company' before. They were usually girls from the Convent, bored and seeking something to do. He would take them in, make love to them, and let them go. If they returned, he would do it all over again, if not, he would forget about them and move on.

Without thinking about what she was doing, Alanna turned and ran, down the corridor. She didn't know where she was going, but she was running as fast as she could. Then she stopped. She _had _no where to run. The only other person who knew she was a girl had been George, and now he was gone.

She had thought she'd meant something to Jon, the way he kissed her. But had she truly been just another one of the girls that he wanted to bed? Just someone to keep himself from getting bored?

Alanna felt the tears threaten to come again, and knew that there was only one person left to turn to. She took a left at the next corridor and started to jog towards them. She had no way of knowing that the further a secret spread, the more likely was its undoing.

**That's the end of chapter two. I hope you liked it. Please review!**


	3. Roaring, Spitting and Hatred

Her face was blank and haunted as she drew a knife, about the length of her little finger, from its hilt. She crossed her feet over one another and moved into position, watching the man dressed in a shirt and breeches intently. He looked harmless enough, laughing, dancing, and drinking with his friends, but Alanna of Trebond knew better than to believe it. That man was a murderer!

_**Chapter Three**_

**Three Years Ago:**

"I can't believe it!" Alanna shrieked, pummeling her friends pillow with all her might. A few sad feathers flew out of it as she pounded it with angry fists. "How could he do something like this, Raoul?"

The big, burly knight could only stare and grope for words. How could she expect him to answer? She had come pounding into his room merely ten minutes ago, told him that she was a girl, and then gone on about how she and Jon had kissed, and then she'd discovered Jon had taken another girl to bed last night. It was more than one knight could bear!

"Alan, is this just a joke?" Raoul asked cautiously, eyeing the sobbing squire warily through his confused eyes.

Alanna turned, rounding on him. "Do you _want _me to take off my shirt?" she roared, throwing his own pillow at him. Raoul ducked the pillow, and took a seat in his favorite armchair.

"Alright, I believe you. What's your name in that case. If you are a. . ." he shuddered, "girl, then your name can't be Alan."

"Alanna. I'm Alanna of Trebond."

"Okay, then, Alanna. So, calmly tell me what's wrong, okay?"

The girl nodded, sending her fiery red locks around her head. But no matter how hard he looked, Raoul still saw Squire Alan of Trebond staring at him, his violet eyes wide, cursing, swearing and snapping about the kiss he and Jon had shared.

But the more he stared, the more that Raoul grew upset and unsettled. It was too weird. Alan could not be a girl, and even if he was, he most definitely could not have kissed Prince Jonathan. The Squire and the Prince were best friends, everybody knew that. That was one of the reasons that Jon had chosen the little, feisty, fiery-brained Page as his Squire, and friends didn't kiss. Did they?

Raoul had to pause and reflect on that. After all, he had never had a female friend. So he wouldn't know, would he? Of course, he could know, but he didn't fancy other men, he fancied woman, of that he knew, even if he never could manage to pull together the courage to talk to them.

"RAOUL!"

The knight was pulled from his strange thoughts when the Squire bellowed in his face. "Yes?" he grumbled, standing up and going to pour himself a cup of water from the pitcher atop the dresser.

"I asked what I should do!"

Raoul shook his head. His brain was tired, stressed, and downright confused. How could he -- she, he corrected himself -- expect him to come up with an answer. Wasn't this something for her to work out, not him?

"How in Mithros's name should I know?" Raoul demanded, drinking the full glass of water in a couple swigs. He slapped the cup back on top of the wooden dresser, and then went back to his armchair, his ears ringing.

"I came to you for _help_!" Alanna spat. "Now I expect you to help me!"

"This is going to be a long day," Raoul muttered.

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When Alanna left Raoul's room later, she didn't feel any better. She knew that her big friend had tried to be supportive, but he couldn't be too helpful, now could he? After all, she had told him she was a girl, and expected him to help her solve her relationship problems with Jonathan.

Uttering a sigh, Alanna made her way towards the practice courts, hoping that the answer to her troubles would lie in a good swordfight.

Entering the practice courts a few minutes later, she realized how stupid an idea this had been. Standing in the middle of the arena was Alex and Jon, squaring off for a fight, which, presumably, everyone in the palace knew who would win.

Sure enough, Alex beat Jon to a pulp in what felt like a matter of seconds, then, knowing what she needed, Alanna strode out onto the practice court. "Alex, got any left in you?" she called, pulling Lightning tantalizingly from its sheathe.

Alex flipped the sword in his hand, and caught the hilt again. "Sure thing, Trebond." Alex grinned cockily, and moved over to face off.

The two ex-friends dodged in and out, attacking, parrying, and using extensive footwork to keep balance. Within minutes Alanna felt better, because her mind was firmly fixed on making her way around the practice court and fighting Alex, rather than worrying about what was happening with her and Jon.

She ducked a swing, and took a step backwards, leaning backwards, then striking in. She caught him under his guard, and the point of her sword nicked Alex's leg, a little blood seeped out from under his pants, but he shook his head. "One of two."

Alanna nodded, and started circling again, shaking her head to try and get the sweat out of her face.

Alex came fast with a flurry of attacks, and finally his sword broke her guard. He sliced downwards along her right arm. Alanna winced. The wound stung as the air poked it cruelly. She flipped her sword into her other arm, and moved on. Whoever struck the next blow would win this one.

Alanna watched warily, trying to catch him off guard. But no matter what his body wouldn't give it away. He drove in, and Alanna, watching his muscles, pulled Lightning up to block it. But Alex kept driving down, and Lighting went sprawling aside. He drove down with his sword, cutting another scratch alongside the first on her arm.

She swallowed hard. She got the feeling that if Jon hadn't been watching intently, Alex would have done more than put another slice in her arm. She staggered to her feet, clutching her wounded arm.

"Good job, Alex."

He nodded smugly, tossed Lightning to her, scooped up his own sword, and left the courts.

Alanna stumbled her way over the packed dirt floor to one of the benches along the walls. She cradled her arm, examining the damage that had been done as she went.

Shaking her head, she let her arm fall. It was nothing horrible. It would seal up in a few minutes, and recover within two weeks. But nothing could heal her wounded pride, and the sweat on her face wasn't entirely because of the exercise.

"Hey, better luck next time." Jon sat down next to her, eyeing the cuts on her arm skeptically. He shot her a glare that clearly asked why she didn't just heal them.

"_Some _of us don't use our magic to heal little tiny wounds," Alanna snapped, getting to her feet. "I will see _you _later."

She stalked away from him, thinking that she'd lost him. But he caught up with her and grabbed her good arm.

"What is going on?" he demanded, dragging her over to the bench in the center of the courtyard.

Alanna looked around the courtyard, pointedly ignoring him. There were four benches, one on each side of the cluster of trees that were planted in the dirt in the center. Around the benches was some kind of brick, and the two paths leading away from the courtyard led to the practice courts and the Pages' wing.

"It's about that kiss, isn't it?" Jonathan demanded, turning Alanna's head to face him.

She met his eyes, glaring. Anger burned in her whole face as she stared coldly. "Does it matter? You kiss one girl and then you go to bed with another? What is _wrong _with you?" she demanded right back at him.

Jon sighed, rubbing his temples. "I could've guessed it was about this," he muttered. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't think you wanted anything. You pushed me."

"I told you what happened!" Alanna snapped, blushing in embarrassment of what had happened while she'd been kissing him. "You know that I didn't mean to."

"No I didn't!" Jon snapped. "Listen, Alanna, I'm sorry that I took someone else to bed. But you wouldn't have come with me anyway, would you?"

"_No!_"

"Exactly."

Alanna rolled her violet eyes. "Excuse me, but, that's not an excuse! You kissed a girl, and took another to bed. Do you always act like this? Because, believe me, Jonathan, I know that you take different girls to bed practically every night."

"I do _not_!" Jon roared, jumping to his feet.

"Oh?" Alanna snarled, leaping to her feet too. "What about those three Princess sisters? I happen to know that you took all three of them to bed in three nights!" She glared daggers into him, and if looks could kill, Jonathan of Conté would be no more.

"That was one _time_!" Jonathan protested. "I wanted _you_ last night! Alanna, I love you! But you know what, maybe I shouldn't! I just took Princess Rosemarie to bed last night because you rejected me!"

Alanna was taken aback for a second that Jonathan really liked _her_. But she recovered quickly. "That's no excuse! If you like one girl you go after them! Well, here's a bit of news for you: _Not everyone gets what they WANT_! Not even spoiled Princes!"

She turned on her heel and stormed off in a huff, not knowing that her first big argument with her best friend could be the beginning of the end, in more than one way.

**That's this chapter. Please review!**


	4. I'll Be Your Friend

All at once the anger and hatred of years flared up to Alanna, threatening to turn her whole body in a blazing signal post, the color of her hair. But she cooled her steaming rage, for only stealth would avenge her friends. Swallowing hard she bit back her anger and hatred, her fear and rage, and most of all, her sorrow, because death had taken all she cared for, and she wanted Death to pay.

_**Chapter Four**_

**Three Years Ago:**

The next few days were quiet an uneventful, for Alanna and Jon seemed to have come to a silent truce not to talk, at least, after his first few attempts to make her forgive him. But now that the uneasy peace had fallen over the two, Alanna found that she felt empty without Jon's constant companionship, and maybe even his love.

About a week after their fight, Alanna was going down to breakfast with Gary and Raoul sandwiching her on either side, when they stopped dead and grabbed her arms, quickly pulling her down a side corridor.

"What?" Alanna hissed, craning her neck to see around them. But they were already down the side passage, and she couldn't see.

"Jon's down there," Gary explained. "Alan, this has _got _to end!" By then Alanna had told them both that she was a girl, but they were still to treat her as if she was Alan of Trebond, Jon's Squire. "You and he have just got to talk it over, work it out."

Alanna crossed her arms and fixed her steeliest glare on her face. "What planet do you live on, Gary?" she spat.

"Planet 'Alan and Jon are Friends'!" Gary retorted with just as much venom.

"Well, I live on planet 'Alan and Jon _aren't _Friends'!"

"Well you shouldn't! Just talk it out. Get it over with. You're ruining all our friendships, Alan. If you want to stay mad at him any longer, you've got to let Raoul and I out, right Raoul?" Gary glared meaningfully at the bigger knight.

Raoul nodded slowly, his eyes downcast away from Alanna's. "Gary's right, this can't go on, and if it does, we don't want our friendship from the two of you being torn apart by something between you two."

Alanna opened her mouth to scream at both of them, but they shook their heads meaningfully. She stopped, her mouth open, but closed it, dropping her arms to her sides. "You're right," she admitted, "I should apologize and get it over with. I'll stop by on the way to breakfast. See you later!" She waved merrily as the oblivious knights went back around the corner.

"Idiots," Alanna muttered, shaking her head. She turned down the passage she was on, and looked around. It was one of the dark passages, the ones that weren't lit well, and had no windows. "Perfect. Just to make 'em sweat."

She set off down the corridor, her boots resounding off the brick of the floor. As she went on, the passage got darker and narrower, and the stone walls turned to brick, until she was surrounded by it. The doors stopped being there, and the light was so dim she could barely see. She put one arm out to her side and the other out in front of her as she went on. And then she opened the wrought iron door in front of her, and climbed down the stairs into a room built of stone, but so infrequently used that dirt coated everything. Now there were magical lights burning in their holders -- because no one ever came down, they were never extinguished. Alanna had been to this place only once before, when she'd wanted to hide away from Roger when he'd been after her for calling him a 'pig', or something like that.

She took a torch from the pile near the door, and lit it with her violet Gift. Then she set off down the passage towards the dark end in the distance, her purple torch's light fluttering around her.

Alanna spent hours walking through the passage, and finally she went steeply down, and stopped in the cellar door, because she heard voices, and several of them. She extinguished the torch, and ducked behind a shelf of flour, the extra supply the palace kept incase they were ever under siege.

Crouching behind it she strained her ears. "You heard me right, master! The little rat Trebond is getting suspicious. The warriors are all in place, but how can we strike without being seen?" Alanna didn't recognize the voice, but it sounded cruel.

"Calm, Nicholas." Alanna's heart sunk into the pit of her stomach, ice washing over her. That voice belonged to Roger. "We will do this, no matter what. The little Trebond boy can do nothing to stop us, his suspicions must go unnoticed. Understood?" The last question hung in the air, and finally the man named Nicholas agreed, and shuffled through the door from which Alanna had come.

A few moments later Roger followed, and Alanna stepped out into the room, drawing Lightning incase anymore were around. What had they been talking about? What was she getting suspicious of?

She sat down on a keg of beer and paused to think. The room was a big one, perfect for secret meetings, with lots of hiding places. There were shelves full of preserved goods, the floor was littered in kegs of beer, and racks hung from the walls with an assortment of dried fruits and vegetables. Hooks hung in the roof, with pots and pans dangling from them, just incase there weren't enough.

Alanna heard a scrabbling in the hall after she wasn't sure how long. She had been sitting in silence, pondering what Roger and the mysterious Nicholas had been talking about, and hadn't paid the least attention to how long she had been there.

Nearly yelping in surprise, Alanna stuffed Lightning back into its sheathe, and dove behind a shelf full of oats for the horses, and people.

The door burst open and two bodies tumbled in, tangled in one another. Alanna peered through the rack, and saw that the two were obviously fighting. Then another figure burst in after them, clearly trying to calm the two fighting men.

"Stop it!" Alanna's heart stopped as she recognized Raoul's bellow. Then the big knight reached down and forcefully pulled Gary off the other form, which turned out to be Jonathan.

The two cousins were shaking, and their faces were littered with already swelling bruises. "How could you tell her that! It's all your fault Gary, she came down this way because she didn't want to talk to me." He looked so angry he might punch Gary again, but Raoul quickly stepped between them. "She's run away because of _you_!"

Gary recoiled, picking a pan out of the hooks in the ceiling and threatening to throw it at Jon. Alanna's breathe caught in her throat as she watched the scene, all her fault. She was making the cousins fight. It was _her _fault.

Feeling cheated and defeated, Alanna came out from behind the shelf behind which she was standing, hanging her head. "I'm right here guys. Stop fighting." Instantly three pairs of arms were flung around her, and she felt herself beginning to suffocate under the choking grips of all three men.

"Guys, you're squishing me."

The three let her go, sagging to the floor in relief, or possibly exhaustion. Alanna sat down on top of her perch, the beer keg, and looked at the three of them. "I was trying to make you _sweat_," she told them, "Not kill one another."

Jon grinned slightly, but quickly turned it into a grimace, because of the pain shooting through his face.

The silence lasted for a few awkward minutes, then Gary finally snapped. "Will you two please be friends again?"

Alanna and Jon's eyes met, and Alanna felt her stomach twist in knots. They were of fear, anger, and even a feeling that she had only felt when he'd been about to kiss her. . . love. He dropped his gaze.

"I'll be your friend, if you'll be mine."

Alanna stared at the top of his head for another minute in silence, contemplating whether they could really make it work. Whether they could really be friends, or if it would all be ruined again.

"Oh, just say yes!" Gary snapped irritably.

"Fine."

"Good!"

But in agreeing to be Jon's friend again, Alanna all but forgot about what she had heard, and that in itself could lead to even more destruction that had first been anticipated. If only she had said 'no'.

**It was short, but I hope you liked it. As always, please review! I'm really having fun writing this story, so I hope you guys are having fun reading it!**


	5. Dirty Little Secret

She bit down on her lip, her eyes not straying from her first target. Time was ticking, soon she would move in, soon she would kill.

_**Chapter Five**_

**Three Years Ago**

Midwinter was almost at Corus, but inside the palace was warm and cheery. Pages and Squires bought their friends and knight masters presents. While knight masters bought their squires and friends presents. Big firs were going up in the dining hall while thistle, holly, and mistletoe were being hung in the corridors. The squires began to think wistful thoughts about getting a kiss from a lovely Convent lady under the mistletoe when Midwinter finally did arrive. But in one set of rooms, things were not the same.

Squire Alan and Prince Jonathan of Conté's shared rooms weren't the same at all. It was their first Christmas without the King of Thieves since they had suffered his loss, and both felt it deep down. Jon would do his duties, and then fade to his room to be alone. Alanna would do hers, and then do the same.

One particular night, after a long party for noblemen only, Alanna, having returned sooner than Jon, heard a knock on her door.

She opened the door, and was nearly squished. It was all she could do her haul her bigger knight master back his to feet, half dragging, half steering him towards the bed. She lowered him down and then shut the door.

Alanna smirked as Jon made a face, running a hand across his sweaty face -- it must have taken a lot of dancing to get that sweaty! "Mithros do I feel sick."

"I told you to quit drinking while you were ahead." Despite the criticism Alanna's voice was soft as she pushed Jon's sweaty hair out of his face. "I-I miss George too, Jon, but that's no reason to get drunk."

"No," Jon said, slowly, pushing himself onto his elbows. "There was another reason."

Alanna smiled. "What's that?"

"This." Jon thrust himself forward, and kissed Alanna, hard. His hands threaded through her hair, pulling her back down onto the bed as he fell back over in his drunken state, taking her down with him.

Alanna felt her own mind struggling with the whole situation. A part of her, a very large part of her, wanted to weave herself into that kiss, and kiss him back. But another part of her reminded her of the last time he had kissed her, and then taken another girl to bed.

Jon drew back, his hands still on her face. He brushed her red hair from her face, and smiled drunkenly at her. "Well? I love you."

Alanna swallowed, hard. Very hard. She fidgeted, tucking her legs under her and looking down at him. She bit her lip, wrestling with the urge to kiss him again, to let herself be his, just this once. "I can't," she whispered at last.

"Why not?" Jon demanded.

"You're _drunk_! For all I know you don't even mean this. For all I know it's only because you're drunk that you're doing this. Sleep now, you'll feel better in the morning."

ooo

Alanna stirred at first light the next morning, and odd thing for her to do since she wasn't a morning person. Her body ached, and she groaned and straightened up, not knowing why. Then she remembered. She was sprawled out in her wickerwork chair, her blanket wrapped around her. She had left Jon in her bed only because she thought it would be too difficult to take him to his room.

Alanna tossed the blanket off and stood up, stretching. With a yawn, she made her way to the privy, and splashed cold water on her face. She rubbed the water from her face and returned to her room, wondering what to do with Jon.

But the problem was solved soon enough, for her knight master woke up, complaining about a terrible headache. Alanna grinned as she made him one of Maude's old brews to cure hangovers.

Once Jon had drunk the glass dry, he was feeling much better indeed. "What happened?" he asked, staring around in wonder. "I don't remember anything after Lady Roselyn's joke about you being a tiny squire."

"Oh boy." It was worse than Alanna had thought. She hadn't even left by then. She hadn't left for a good two hours after that crack. "You were flat drunk," she explained. But Jonathan noticed that she was avoiding his gaze.

"Alanna, did something. . . _happen_?"

The girl shook her head, a little too readily. "I didn't do anything, did I? Because, you know what it means to me to be your friend. I don't want anything to happen after last time."

Alanna still couldn't look at him as she made another cup of tea for his hangover. She wanted to tell him what had happened, but it was all she could do not to fling herself on top of him and kiss him.

A shiver went down her spine. His hand was on her shoulder. He turned her around to face him, and lifted her face to his, staring into her eyes. "What happened?" he demanded, calmly, icily calm.

"You-you kissed me." Alanna all but choked the words out. "You-you wanted to-to. . . you know." She twisted her face into a disgusted look, but inside she wondered what it would have been like.

"Did you?" The flat calm in his voice made Alanna shiver again.

She squirmed in his grip, not saying anything. "Did we?" he demanded, and when Alanna looked in his eyes, she saw fear.

"No," she said at last, squirming out of his grip as he let her go. "No, we didn't."

Jon breathed out a sigh of relief.

Alanna walked to the other side of the room, purpose in her steps, but all over she was shaking. She wanted nothing more than to fling herself into his arms and do what he had wanted to do the night before. But she didn't.

ooo

The next night was another ball, and again Alanna returned to her room as soon as possible. And again Jon came to her door, but this time he wasn't drunk. Not even a little, and when he kissed her, she couldn't taste the alcohol in his mouth at all. He kissed her with a fiery passion, his arms pulling at her tunic, his tongue touching hers.

And this time, Alanna didn't refuse. Because it was what she wanted. It was what she had wanted the other night when he was drunk, but wouldn't take advantage of.

Jon pulled Alanna's tunic and shirt off, so that she was shivering in just the bonds that she wove around her breasts. He stopped then, meeting her violet eyes with more emotion than Alanna could sort. But the one she saw most prominently was fear.

"What's wrong?" she asked, touching his face softly.

"This isn't right. It-it feels so right though. But it's not!" His voice was desperate and confused. "This is the only time I've ever been nervous," he admitted with a sheepish grin, rolling back on his heels. "I've never stopped before."

Now that he was talking this way, Alanna felt her stomach clench, and her heart rise into her throat. She was nervous too. But Jon put his hands on her sides, and kissed her warmly, reaching down for her pants.

This time it was Alanna who pulled back. "J-Jon?" Her voice quavered, shivers spiking up and down her spine. "I-I'm scared."

"Me too, Alanna. Me too."

ooo

Alanna woke up the next morning, feeling a warm heat beside her. Jon's arm was wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him. She rolled over to face him; pushing herself against his body. She was afraid of what had happened the night before, but like Jon had said, it felt so right, and yet so wrong.

Neither of them were wearing any clothes, and despite the heat of Jon's body Alanna was still rapidly growing cold. She put her hand in his hair, messing it up slightly, smiling as he slept on. Then she put her face against his, kissing him until his eyes opened and he sighed.

"Well, we're still alive," Jon said, kissing Alanna squarely, putting his arms around her and drawing her closer. "I love you Alanna of Trebond, I don't ever want you to leave me, ever again."

Alanna smiled a little, her stomach churning. Someday things would be different, but right now, she and Jon shared a dirty little secret that not even Gary or Raoul would be let in on. But that 'dirty little secret' meant one more thing that she had to conceal, and one more thing for a certain someone to find.

**Please R-E-V-I-E-W! I hope you like it, sorry it took longer, but now that schools in I'm afraid it will. See you all soon!**


	6. Keeling Over Dead

_I'll kill you_, Alanna thought savagely. She stared into the group, her violet eyes shining with anger. She would kill. . . If she could just wait a little bit longer. Once they were all drunk she would have the time of her life. Until then, she would wait.

_**Chapter Six**_

**Two Years Ago:**

Alanna was in a daze as she walked off the practice courts with Faithful at her side. She and Alex had dueled again, and this time it had been she who was tempted to kill. His neck had seemed so weak and thin just then, and it was all she could do to tear herself away from him. If she hadn't left them, Lighting would be forever in his throat.

She tried to swallow the lump that was in her throat. Sure, she had killed before, but killing Alex would simply be murder. Or would it? After all, what about all those that she had killed at the River Drell? Was that murder, or was there a reason behind that killing?

Thankfully, Faithful was quiet as he walked along beside her, trotting to keep up. But a familiar voice broke into her thoughts.

"Alan!"

Alanna stopped and turned around. She tried to force a smile as Gary came to a halt before her. "What's up, Gary?" she asked, trying to keep her voice level. But tears were threatening to spill and her thoughts were trying to turn on her.

"I just wanted to see if you had a minute," was all Gary said.

She cast about, looking for somewhere to run, to hide. But there was nowhere for her to go. She would have to face him. "Yeah, a minute."

"Great. This way then." Gary turned and started down a side passage off the hallway.

They walked in silence for a ways, Faithful following at a slight distance. _Why does it have to be this way_? Alanna thought, a shiver passing up her spine. _And I told you to go _AWAY! She added savagely as thoughts of murdering Alex poured into her head again.

Gary led her into a little chamber with only one window and a fire burning on the hearth. There was a high-backed chair with someone in it, staring deep into the fire. Another chair was next to the first one, and that was the chair that Gary ushered her into.

She sat down, and glanced at the figure in the chair. Dread washed over her in a sheet of ice. Sitting there, staring into the fire was Thom. But he wasn't the Thom she remembered. He had a tortured look about his face, and his fingers seemed long, and spidery, almost dead. He was ghastly pale, his violet eyes standing out like someone dressed in white when the room was black.

"Thom!" Alanna cried, staring wide eyed at her brother. "Gary, what's going on?" she asked as he started to retreat out of the room. "Gary?" But her friend was gone, and she was left alone with the shell of her brother.

He turned to stare at her, but his eyes were blank, his long fingers knitted together. And then his spoke, but his voice was distant. "In the darkness lies the danger, forever bound to His will. Magic beyond his own understanding lies there. While he seeks it he puts more than himself in danger. But he will not rest, will not stop." Then Thom stopped speaking, his eyes widening in shock. If possible, he turned paler, and then keeled over in his chair.

"Thom!" Alanna was on her feet, leaning over her brother. She was feeling desperately for a pulse, screaming the whole time. Tears were pouring down her face as she felt frantically. His chest was still, and no air was coming from his mouth or nose. When she put her fingers over the place Duke Baird had taught her to look for a pulse, she felt nothing.

She crumpled to the floor, losing all train of thought. Everything was blurry, everything was wet. And then she was lying in a bed, staring into Jon's face.

Alanna looked around. She was in her room. There was light coming from the window, and Jon was inches in front of her. "Ssh," he soothed rubbing her hand between his fingers.

But no matter how much body heat he gave her, she still felt numb. "Is he--?" she didn't have to say the rest. Jon knew.

The Prince's sapphire eyes were alight with caring. Alanna felt amazed. He didn't even know her brother, and yet he cared about Thom's death because he cared about Alanna. "I--" he stopped too, breathing in to calm his shattered voice. "I'm sorry. We did everything we could. But he was gone."

Alanna shut her eyes, but the tears squeezed out between her shut lids. They fell down her cheeks, hot and salty. And then she remembered what he had said. The words came to her, even as she tried to push them back.

_In the darkness lies the danger, forever bound to His will. Magic beyond his own understanding lies there. While he seeks it he puts more than himself in danger. But he will not rest, will not stop._

She swallowed. Her throat ached, her eyes burned, and yet she couldn't stop. The memory flooded her. The last time she had seen Thom he had been happy to go to become a sorcerer. And then. . . Then he was dead.

She gulped hard, but found that it only made her throat hurt as if the black plague gripped her. Jon put his arms around her, and she buried her face in his shoulder. He held her, whispering to her, trying to calm her.

But her shaken nerves would not be calmed. Fire burned through her whole body. Her heart was beating sluggishly slow, or faster than the fastest palace horse could run. It changed whenever she breathed. Sometimes it would be such an effort to breathe, other times it would come in quick gasps that sent spasms down her whole body. Fear and anger alternated. Anger at _Him_, whoever _He _was. She felt as if _He_ had killed Thom, and she was angry.

She didn't realize she was digging her fingernails into Jon's back until he said, "Alanna, stop. Calm down." And removed her hands from around him, lowering her onto the bed.

She lay there, her heart beating fast for the moment, plotting revenge on whoever had dared to hurt her brother. The tears had stopped. Now she was just angry. But then the tears poured out again, her throat ached, and her mind felt numb. It was just too much!

But Jonathan was there. He wouldn't let anything hurt her. "Alanna, calm down," he whispered again, his voice soft. She was trying to pull him down to next to her, to make him kiss her. But he was resisting her, his hands firmly on her shoulders, keeping her down.

She strained to earn his kiss. He would kiss away everything inside her, make the horror leave. But he wouldn't. "Alanna, not now. You don't know what you want right now. You're in shock."

Her fingers groped for the ties on the back of his shirt, but he swatted them away. His cool sapphire eyes were turning annoyed. She could feel his irritation with her building up. "Please." He took her hand and kissed the back of it lovingly. But that only made her want him more.

"No, Jon. I want you!" She was begging him, pleading him. She didn't know why, she just knew it was what she had to do.

He touched her forehead softly, brushing her hair away. "Thom's dead, you don't want anything right now. And you want me least of all. You don't want anything like that to happen."

"But I do!"

She reached for his face, wanting to touch his soft skin. He reached up and snatched her hand, gently putting pressure on it. But she fought him. He touched her hand to his face, letting her feel it. Then he turned her hand over and kissed her palm.

Alanna continued to struggle, but she could see the light coming to his eyes. That light that she knew meant he wanted her too. He wanted to be with her, to kiss her. To love her.

And then he was pulling her up, kissing her thoroughly, his lips soft, his touch just as gentle. His hands were on her head, keeping her there. And hers were in his silky hair, feeling its every strand between her fingers.

And then the door opened.

**Okay, please review! Oh, and I just want to tell you all, that this year I'm writing a book. Like, an actual book. I don't know if it'll be published, but I'm really HOPING it will. So, wish me luck!**


	7. Homosexual Princes?

Thoughts were running back and forth, chasing each other through her head. There was no time for the present now, for Alanna of Trebond was caught in the past, the wretchedly horrible past.

**Chapter Seven**

**Two Years Ago:**

"Oh dear."

The voice was soft and light, obviously feminine.

Alanna was shaken to the core, and by the stiffness in his arms, so was Jon. Slowly, they pulled apart, and looked at the speaker. She was no taller than Alanna, and with a flowing pink dress. Her blond hair fell all around her shoulders, and the shocked look in her eyes made Alanna shudder.

"Lady Cynthia," Jon said pleasantly, standing up. "Can I help you with something?"

She backed away from him as though he was the black plague, fumbling for the door. "No, quite all right. I just came to ask Alan if he wanted to talk with me for a while. I-I heard about his brother."

"Oh. Tragic wasn't it?" Alanna felt a wave of gratitude. Jonathan was trying to use his charm to make her forget it. But then, who would believe it anyway?

"_Tortall's Prince, heir to the Throne, Jonathan of Conté, found making out with his squire_--?"

King Roald and Queen Lianne wouldn't have it! And no one would believe it. Except for those who weren't fond of the royal family. But with people like Roald and Lianne on the throne, no one disliked them much.

"I'll just be leaving now," Lady Cynthia said hurriedly, backing out the door as Jon stalked towards her. "Goodbye." With that she rushed from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Jon sighed, flopping down on the bed beside Alanna. "That was utterly and ridiculously crazy," he said tiredly.

Alanna swallowed, trying to get the taste of fear out of her mouth. "Yeah. . . No one will believe her though, will they?"

"Believe what? That I sleep with my squire? Not likely."

"But if they do?"

Jon propped himself up on one elbow and looked at her, his eyes wide and a cocky smile on his face. "How many people are going to believe that Tortall's Prince is homosexual?"

"And how many aren't?" Alanna snapped. She was instantly sorry. "Sorry."

"Alanna, don't worry about it." He grabbed a stand of her hair between his fingers and started playing with it. "There is nothing to worry about. No one will believe her, and if they do, tough. Does it matter if the whole palace thinks we do _that_?"

She couldn't help it, she laughed. "I think they'll think we're crazy if they think _that_."

Jon grinned, dropping her hair and kissing her. When he let go he said, "Would it make you feel better if I took Gary to the next ball?"

"Eww!" Alanna giggled, slapping his arm. "Gary's your _cousin_. Take Raoul."

"Can't, Raoul won't even admit that he likes girls, much less men."

Alanna laughed again. Jon put his arms around her neck and kissed her, pulling her down onto the bed. "Let's worry about it again in the morning," he whispered, coming up for air.

"The door's not locked."

"Let 'em think we're having fun, see if _I _care."

Alanna's palms were sweating as she paced back and forth outside the King and Queens royal chambers. It had been a week since Lady Cynthia had witnessed _that _and only now was the information going about. Most people just thought that Lady Cynthia had a few loose screws, those that didn't. . .

Alanna shuddered and forced herself not to think about _that_. Jonathan was with his parents now, telling them how much of a lie it was. And if they didn't believe him, Jon and Alanna had agreed on plan B.

The only problem with plan B was, whose head would they want? Alanna's--? or Jon's? But Alanna suspected -- hoped -- that King Roald and Queen Lianne wouldn't let the mobs kill either one of them.

She knew they wouldn't let anyone have Jon's, because he was Tortall's heir. Besides, who would _want _his?

But then another thought struck. Who would _want anybody's _head? And yet, people still did.

Alanna shuddered. The door opened a crack.

"Alan--? will you please come here?" King Roald poked his head out. Briefly, Alanna met the King's eyes. In them she saw concern, and vague humor.

She almost leapt with joy. It looked as if the King and Queen believed Jon. She followed Roald back into the room. They were in Roald's personal study. A fireplace lay quiet across from the door, and four large, cushy chairs were seated all around. Jon, Lianne, and Roald, who had just sat, were seated in one of these each. Lianne motioned for Alanna to take the last. She looked better than she had the last time Alanna had seen the Queen, but she hadn't looked up to her peak since the Sweating Sickness.

Alanna sat, and glanced at Jon. He didn't look at her, but kept his eyes fixed on his parents, relaxing in the chair with strange elegance. He was leaning back, with his arms crossed over his chest, and one ankle resting on the other knee.

"Father, this is silly," Jonathan said, shaking his head. "Why would Alan tell you other than the truth? Which is what _I _told you."

"I just want confirmation," Roald replied, smiling.

Jon closed his eyes, then shook his head. "This is silly. Lady Cynthia is obviously having some problems with the adjustments here at the palace. That's all, Father. Alan is merely my squire and my best friend, nothing else. I _like _court _ladies_."

Alanna bit down on her tongue to stop that laugh that was bursting to come out. The way Jon had said it. . . It was just so _funny_!

"Alan of Trebond, do you swear by Tortall that the rumors are not true? That there is nothing but friendship between you and Prince Jonathan."

Alanna gulped. That was a lot to swear by. She glanced at Jon, to find that he had his eyes half shut and was barely watching with a relaxed air about him. His mood calmed her fragile nerves, and she said, "I swear."

"Now." Jon leapt to his feet. "Now that that's done with, can we stop these silly rumors? They're ruining my reign and it hasn't even started."

Roald and Lianne smiled. "We'll do our best, son," Jon's mother told him.

"Thank you. Alan--?"

Alanna got up and mutely followed Jon out of the room. She closed the door behind them and followed him to the stables.

"Let's go for a ride," he suggested, entering the stables.

"Alright." Alanna tacked up Moonlight, giving her a quick once-over first. Then the two mounted and headed out for the royal forest.

"Wait up!" someone called.

Alanna twisted in her saddle, and spotted Gary, riding after them. He was on a big bay stallion named Titan. They waited for him to catch up, and then headed into the royal forest, now the three of them.

"So, what's going on?" Gary demanded, prodding Alanna in the ribs from the right. (Jon was riding on her left.) "Is it true? Did Lady Cynthia really catch the two of you. . . offending?"

Alanna burst out laughing. Moonlight shied from the sudden sound that she hadn't expected. It took her a minute to get the mare under control, but then she moved back into their riding formation. " 'Offending'?" she asked, grinning broadly.

"You know, doin' _that_? You could have at _least _told Raoul and I that you two do _that_. Then we could have had all of Jon's court Lady's by telling them that he likes men." Gary grinned.

They turned onto a little dirt path that wound its way from one side of the royal forest to the other

"So, tell!" Gary demanded, poking Alanna in the ribs again. This time she grabbed his hand, and bent his middle finger back until he started whining.

"Stop poking me, or I'll do worse than that." Alanna's voice was soft and deadly, like a killers, but neither man missed the humor burning in her violet eyes. She let go of his hand and turned her attention back to the path. "Race you," she shouted, spurring Moonlight into a gallop.

"Hey!" Jon shouted. She heard the sound of the others moving their horses forward, but she was miles ahead before they'd even started. She turned back to riding, and whooped in sheer joy as Moonlight's hooves pounded below her.

Moonlight neighed to the wind, picking up more speed, adding to Alanna's screams of joy with screams of her own. But they weren't screams of joy. They were screams of pure terror.

Alanna pulled on the reins, gently at first, then more urgently. But Moonlight was running as if something was chasing her with a red-hot branding iron. She wouldn't stop.

Alanna glanced around, looking for something. Moonlight picked up even more speed, running as if from the devil himself.

"She _is_ running from the devil."

Alanna clung with all her life to Moonlight. The voice was _so very _familiar, and yet she had no idea whose voice it was.

"Ha ha ha!" The voice stung her ears, and then, as if something struck her, Alanna flew from the saddle, pitching into the deep forest. "Alan of Trebond."

Then all was black.

**R-E-V-I-E-W. I'd like to tell everyone how much I appreciated all the reviews I got last chapter. Thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing. An extra big thanks to tortallanrider, my best reviewer, and elven cats eyes and cheeseycraziness, all my most loyal reviewers for this story. Hope you continue to like it, though I'm not sure how often I can update. Thanks!**


	8. In the Hand of Evil

**Chapter Eight**

**Two Years Ago:**

Slowly things seemed to be awakening. A dim light was flowing through her closed lids, and birds were starting to sing. But Alanna ached from head to toe, and wasn't sure where she was.

She opened her eyes, and sat up, looking around. The Royal Forest looked menacing in the light throne from the first quarter moon. Animals were calling out, and what she had mistaken for birds were really crickets. Somewhere deep in the forest she heard a owl hooting.

A shiver crept down her spine.

_Where _am _I? What happened?_

Then she remembered. Moonlight. Was her precious mare alright? What had happened to Jon and Gary. And _whose _voice was that? It was so familiar, and yet still out of reach from her groping mind.

A name was floating in the air before her.

"Grrr." Alanna pushed herself to her feet, brushing her breeches off. She looked around, and felt a shiver run down her spine. In the distance something was staring at her, black as the night. A cloaked figure on a horse, that had to be what it was. But somehow Alanna had a feeling that it wasn't what it appeared to be.

The figure shifted, and the creature reared up. Alanna gulped. It was a horse, and yet it wasn't. It had four legs with black hooves on them. But in the light she caught its face. It was horribly malformed if it was a horse. It had a long black face, with glittering black eyes on either side of its head. Its nostrils flared, and it opened its mouth. Inside its mouth were jagged fangs, each the size of a sharks, and probably each as sharp. But the strangest thing was the wings that were spreading out from its sides. Long, black, and leathery, they unfurled. Once they beat, twice, and then Alanna recognized a bats wings.

Alanna swallowed. She pulled Lightning into her hand, preparing her magic if there was a need. But the creature stayed. It thrashed in the air for a moment, and then came down on all fours. Then the rider looked at her, and Alanna could have sworn its eyes were red, then the horse-thing crashed back into the forest, away from Alanna.

She breathed out a sigh of relief, but Lightning remained in her hand never-the-less.

Alanna stood there for a moment, trying to calm her shattered nerves. Then she put Lightning back in its sheath, and started through the forest in the direction she thought home was.

Something in the forest rumbled, and she spun to face it, drawing Lightning.

"Alan?"

"Alan?"

"Alan?"

None of the voices sounded familiar, save one. Alanna headed for the speaker as quickly as she dared. She burst through the underbrush just as the others were about to leave. Her heart was pounding in her throat, making her unable to talk. Instead Alanna sent out a wave of magic, and Jon turned around, his eyes lighting up as he looked at her.

If it weren't for the King's men all around, she was sure he would have grabbed her and hugged her with all his might, probably breaking a few bones in the process.

_I told you she was fine_, a sniping voice remarked from somewhere behind Jon. Alanna looked over his shoulder and spotted Faithful, sitting on Darkness's saddle, washing a paw.

"That's enough out of _you_," Jon shot back, not even looking at the black cat with big violet eyes. "The rest of you go home, we'll be there shortly," Jon informed the King's men.

One by one they filed out of the clearing, obviously too tired to bother complaining.

Only once they were all gone did Jon throw his arms around Alanna, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. "I'm so glad you're all right!" He slipped his other arm under her knees, so that he was holding her in his arms, and then kissed her.

It was a long, passionate kiss, one of the ones that they almost never shared anymore because they tended to forget what was happening around them.

_Uh. . . Yuck._

Jon and Alanna pulled back at the same second, and burst out laughing at Faithful's remark.

"Jon, where's Moonlight? Is she all right?"

Jonathan hung his head, shaking it sadly. "I'm sorry. Gary went after her, but she was going to fast. We'll look for her again in a couple of days, once her steam will have worn off we'll have a better chance finding her."

Alanna nodded grimly. "Okay."

"For now let's go back to the palace. People have been missing you--other than me that is."

Alanna grinned, then frowned. "Why?"

Jon laughed walking them back towards Darkness. "They're eager to find out for themselves if what Lady Cynthia said is true."

The girl in the Prince's arms groaned. "Are they now?" she asked dryly.

Jon put Alanna back on her feet, and offered a hand to help her get up. Alanna tried a few times to throw herself onto Darkness's back, but he was bigger than Moonlight, and she had trouble even scrambling from the ground onto the mare. So she finally took Jonathan's help, swinging herself into the saddle unceremoniously.

Faithful clambered onto her shoulder as Jonathan got on behind her, gripping the reins around her.

Alanna sighed and leaned back, resting her chin against Jon's shoulder.

Faithful sniggered and hopped onto her lap. _Someone likes the Prince!_

"Oh, shut it," Alanna replied with a yawn. "Like we didn't already know that?"

_Are you going to get married and have little kitties?_

The remark would have been cute, except Faithful said it completely seriously. Alanna was stunned out of words for a long time.

Alanna and Jonathan made it back to the palace in Corus at midday. They were greeted eagerly by the King and Queen, and the men that Roald had sent looking for her.

"Where have you been?" Roald demanded. "When my men said you'd told them to come back, Jonathan, I couldn't help but worry. What if. . . What if someone thought the rumors were true?"

"Pfft!" Jonathan snorted, "Let them think! I thought we'd agreed, Father, that it didn't matter what anyone thought? Alan and I are _not homosexual_!"

Roald scuffed a shoe nervously. "I know you're not, but that doesn't stop people from speculating. And it's not good if people think that you're. . . well, _that, _before your reign, son."

Jon swung out of the saddle, offering a hand for Faithful. The black cat leapt onto his shoulder, and scurried to the ground in a hurry. _See you later, _he said, running off for the palace, and dinner.

Alanna leapt off the saddle a moment later, and took Darkness's reins as Jonathan moved to his father, speaking quietly. After a few moments Roald nodded and shrugged. "I suppose you're right. Let the think what they will, but I _will not be happy _if they start doing too much speculating."

"Noted, Father," Jon said with a smile. Roald returned his son's smile, then took the Queen's elbow and led her back into the palace.

Jonathan sighed and rubbed his temples. "I need something to drink," he said hoarsely. "Something _strong_."

Alanna laughed. "You and me both. C'mon, let's go back to our rooms. I need to think for a while."

"Alan, what happened in that forest?" he asked, his voice stern.

She took a deep breath, preparing to lie--and stopped herself. Why _should _she lie? Why didn't she just tell Jonathan about that--she shuddered--_thing_ and its rider?

"I don't--I don't want to talk about it now," was all she said. She had tried to tell the truth, but the words had caught in her throat before she could say them.

Jonathan nodded slowly, starting toward the palace. "Alright. But I want to know as soon as you can talk about it. Something happened in there. And something happened while you were riding Moonlight back then. I felt it with my Gift. And when you went flying--you hit a tree on the edge of the path and fell into the bush. . . But when I went looking, you were no where to be found!"

Alanna shuddered at the thought of something dark truly being against her. She had always suspected Duke Roger of being cruel and trouble, but she had never thought that something could get_ inside _her head. Because that voice had come from the inside, otherwise the others would have heard it.

Then she remembered what Coram had said that day when she was still a page. He had said something about the Duke being able to get inside peoples heads--but how the Goddess protected her from him. And then Mistress Cooper had told her that the Goddess had her eye on Alanna. What if--after beating the Ysandir and everything else she had suffered--the Goddess had stopped looking after her. What if she was really to travel the rest of the path to knighthood all by herself? The thought made her cringe.

"Alanna?" She hadn't even noticed, but they were standing in the empty corridor outside their adjoining rooms now. "You'll tell me when you think you can--right?"

Alanna swallowed, determined to shelve her fear for now. "Yes, Jon, I will." She pulled the door open and walked in, closing it behind her as she heard Jonathan move off to enter his room.

She sunk down against the wood of the door, pulling her knees up against her chest. "Why can't I just be like everyone else?" Alanna asked nothing in particular. "Why can't I have just been born a boy?" She sighed, and rested her chin on her knees. "Why?" Slowly, the burning sensation in her throat was growing. She kept talking, trying to shove it away. "Why do I have to be the one with the secret?" Her eyes were glossy now, and it hurt to talk. "W-Why? Goddess--why?" The tears poured down her cheeks now, hot and furious. Alanna didn't know why she was so upset, but it didn't really matter. The tightness of her throat got a little tighter, and the tears streaming down her face felt like boiling water. "_Why_?"

Her head fell back onto the door, her sobbing going on without relief. "Why does it have to be this way?" She staggered to her feet, sobbing outright. "I didn't ask for this! I didn't ask to be a girl!" She was shaking with anger, hatred, and fear all at the same time. Her eyes were red and bulging from the tears. "I didn't ask to be a girl!" She screamed out in anger. Nothing coherent, just something to yell.

Alanna's shoulders shook as she leaned against the door, pushing her face against the wood. "Great Mother, why are you _doing _this to me? You're deserting me, aren't you? _Come back_!" She brought her fist against the wood. There was a splintering crack as the old wood broke down the length of the door. The crack stopped there, but it stood out like a battle scar.

"In the name of _Mithros_!"

The door was ripped open, and Gary stomped through, looking furious. But one look at Alanna's face and he was instantly sorry. "Alanna, what's wrong?" He slammed the door behind him, looking around for Jonathan. The prince was nowhere.

"I can't take it, Gary!" Alanna sobbed, her shoulders hunching over in a defeated look he had never seen. "I think--I think the Mother's turned her back on me. How am I _ever _to become a knight if she's ignoring me? _How_!" Alanna pulled her fist back to strike again, but Gary caught her hand. "Let me go!" she wailed, tears falling wildly.

_Why am I doing this?_ Alanna wondered. Inside she felt fine, after those initial words, and the first tears. But now her body was out of her control. Whatever lay inside her could not control her tears or her voice. _Gary! Gary, listen to me! It's not me! I don't know what's going on. I'm in _HERE

But it was no use.

Alanna fought for her hand, trying to pull it from Gary's grip. "Ssh," he whispered softly, wrapping his much larger hand around hers. He swallowed hard, wondering what on earth he was doing. Wasn't Jon supposed to be comforting Alanna when she was like this?

"I don't want to do this anymore!" Alanna wailed, her attempts to take her hand back feeble. "I just want to go home--to--to become a lady!"

Gary, calm and cool, stopped moving, the blood draining from his face. This was _not _the Alanna of Trebond he knew. The Alanna _he _knew would never _think _of being a lady. Shaking his head, Gary rubbed her hand between his fingers. Tentatively he put his other arm around her shoulders, pulling her head next to him and stroking her hair. "Alanna, just calm down." He was trying to stay calm, but he was terrified too.

_I'm in here! _Alanna shouted mentally, trying to make her body move. _Please, Gary, I'm here! _But she knew it was hopeless. Without a Gift he would never see her. _Get Jon! Please, Gary, please! _

"He'll never hear you. It's hopeless little one, and all that has to happen is you must remain under my spell for another hour. Then the damage will be done, and everything will be over. . ." Cold laughter followed the same voice that had spoken to her before. And then she recognized it. It was the voice of Nicholas, the man that Roger had talked to one day in the cellar that she'd overheard a year before. She swallowed.

"She _is _running from the devil. . . And so is _everyone _else--only they don't know it."

**R-E-V-I-E-W. I know, I'm evil. But that's really the end of the chapter. Haha. Thanks for reading! **


	9. Cursed for Love

Her mind raced and her heart beat ever faster. She cringed at the thought of what happened next.

**Chapter Nine**

**Two Years Ago:**

_Gary, help me! Help me, Gary, help me! _Silently Alanna pleaded, but it was useless. Gary could not hear her, only the pleas of her body, which something other than her was controlling. _Gotta go, gotta help Jon! _she thought desperately.

"Alanna, would you calm down?" Gary fingered her hair softly, whispering into it.

Alanna's heart leapt as an idea hit her. Rather than try to control her voice or her body, she tried to call for another help. _Faithful! Faithful, hear me now! I need you. Please, Faithful, come here._

She waited, trying to ignore the stupidity of her brain. _Please, Faithful, please_.

"Mrow?" A black cat slipped through the door, staring from Alanna to Gary.

_Let this work. Faithful, I'm in here, you've got to go-- _but her thought was cut off as suddenly she had control of her body and was talking again. The transfer was swift and painless. She swayed for a moment, but Gary held her up.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

"Not now. I think Jon's in trouble." Alanna pulled out of his grip and ran to the door separating their rooms. She hoped that it wasn't too late, because whatever Nicholas had meant she knew it involved Jonathan. "Argh." Alanna thrust violet colored magic forward, destroying the lock and ripping the door open.

Gary stepped up beside her, and stopped.

Alanna swallowed the sick feeling in her stomach as she rushed in, trying to ignore the blood. But it wasn't possible--it was everywhere and on everything. And lying in the middle of it was Jon, sprawled on his stomach, breathing slowly.

She knelt down next to him, pushing him over. Alanna gulped. His face was torn into almost as badly as his stomach, thighs, and chest had been ripped into, as if by an animal. Across his eyes there was blood, and those sparkling sapphire eyes were tight shut.

"Jon, can you hear me?" Alanna whispered quietly, gripping his hand, sending her magic deep into him. He moaned softly. "It's going to be alright, I'm here for you--so is Gary."

Jonathan swallowed. _She's brave, but foolish, _he thought sadly. "Alanna, it's too late. I don't know for sure--but Tortall doesn't want--doesn't _need_--a blind King. Just let me go, the Dark God's not far off now."

"Jon, you can't die!" Alanna yelped. "Blind or not, you're the only heir to the throne of Tortall."

"Roger's still around."

Jon heard his friend swallow. "I've been wanting to tell you, but I knew you wouldn't believe me. Jon, I've heard--Roger's plotting, I think he's behind this attack. Did--did you see who did this?"

"Roger? That's impossible--he wouldn't do something like that."

Alanna shook her head. "Jon, please, trust me--and I don't trust Roger. I know he's your cousin and all, but there's something about him I've never liked."

"Who attacked you?" The question came from Gary, who until that point had been silent.

"I don't know." Jonathan licked his lips. "They were well trained. They were fast and silent. Ten minutes ago I was fine, reading my book. Five minutes ago I was--was being attacked from behind. And now I'm like this. Ruined."

While he had been talking, Alanna had silently been using her Gift to probe the damage. It wasn't as bad as it looked. While he had lost a lot of blood, it wasn't so bad yet that he couldn't be saved. And his eyes might not be forever destroyed if the Duke Baird had a proper spell for them.

"Stop that."

Alanna looked back at Jonathan's face, meaning to meet his eyes--her stomach rolled. She swallowed hard. "G-Gary, let's get him to the infirmary, alright? I think he can be saved."

The big knight nodded, lifting his cousin off the ground and into his arms as if he were a doll.

As they walked down the corridors Alanna went first, picking out ways that weren't occupied. If anyone discovered this before something was done. . . There wouldn't _be _time to save Jon. It had to be done in secret--for if the people knew they would surround him with words to the dead.

Finally they made it into the infirmary, and Alanna went in, leaving Gary in the hall. "Duke Baird?" She pulled on his arm nervously as soon as he had finished wrapping a patient's arm. "I need to talk--it's urgent."

"Alan, nothing is more urgent than tending the wounded."

"It's about a very _special _wounded." Alanna caught his eyes, staring meaningfully.

The Duke met her eyes and raised an eyebrow. "Him?"

Alanna nodded. "Ready the back room, Gary will be in once I give him the signal." The Duke hurried off and Alanna retraced her steps at a run. She burst into the hall and ran down a corridor for a moment, then threw the curtains of an alcove aside. Gary turned to face her, tears on his cheeks.

She hurried over, and put a finger to test Jonathan's pulse. It beat so sluggishly that it was near impossible to feel. "Let's go then," she urged, leading the way.

They brought Jon into the infirmary, and hurried through to the private room in the back. Duke Baird was already there, along with several of his most skilled healers. Gary laid Jon on the bed, and hurried to start a fire in the hearth.

Alanna stood back, waiting until they called on her power. She was sweating from the heat of the fire, and from her nerves, by the time they did. Slowly she walked up to him, and put her hand on Jonathan's forehead. It was cold, despite the fire. She gulped.

Duke Baird took Alanna's other hand, and put his remaining hand on Jonathan's head next to hers. Then he began to speak the spell. Alanna, meanwhile, did her part. She reached inside of her, calling on that flaming ball of violet fire, feeding it to the Duke as he worked.

He nodded to her when he finished the last verse, and Alanna picked up.

"_Great Mother, hear my call,_

_I will serve forever with loyalty,_

_If only you grant me what I need."_

Alanna swallowed, then carried on to the second-to-last verse--the one that would seal her fate, and Jon's.

"_Blend my blood and tears,_

_My will and power of what I ask,_

_Great Mother, hear my call,_

_Spare the life that means so much,_

_No one wants him gone,_

_For he is Tortall's Heir."_

By now Alanna was shaking nervously, one more verse to call on the powers that the Gods themselves rarely drew on. If the Mother didn't protect her, she would die, taking Jonathan along with her. _I hope she still cares_, Alanna thought miserably, forcing her voice to rise again.

"_See me at last for what I am;_

_Your loyal servant forever,_

_But without truth I cannot help,_

_Truth is my weakness,_

_Truth may kill me,_

_But I shall serve forever to you,_

_I, Alanna of Trebond call you;_

_Help me, help the Prince,_

_Weave my blood and tears into his,_

_Call the powers more divine than thee,_

_Save the world that is your child,_

_I am your loyal slave,_

_Help me use the magic you gave!"_

Alanna didn't have time for the stunned look on the Duke's face. If she had said she was 'Alan of Trebond' she might have been cast down for lying, at least now, no matter how she died, she was honest. If she died from the power the Goddess leant her, so be it, if she was skinned for being a girl, so be it. She was honest--no one could say she hadn't admitted it.

Inside her, fire was rolling all about. And then there was that voice, the one she had heard when she'd saved Jon from the Sweating Sickness. "_At last you agree, my daughter._" She felt something tearing through her, a pain she almost couldn't bear. But Alanna fought the pain, biting her lip till it bled. As she had done once before, she would ride the monster! She wouldn't give up--couldn't!

Slowly the pain went down, and she saw things no mortal was meant to ever see. Light flashed around her, stars vanished in the distance, the moon went out, the sun exploded, strange creatures filled the abyss that was left behind. Then a cloaked figure was before her in never-ending space.

The woman lowered her black cloak, and smiled a smile that a mortal should never bear witness to. The woman had pale white skin, but her eyes were red, and her teeth were as sharp and jagged as the horse's that Alanna had seen in the forest. Then another figure stepped up beside her, and the Great Mother lowered her hood, staring at the other Goddess that could have been her twin.

"_Go, my Daughter, you have done well. Once more you save Tortall, and this was not a time I had seen coming. You are truly a hero--remember that. No matter what happens, Tortall is in _your _debt._"

"AHHHH!" Alanna screamed, biting down so hard on her lip that blood spattered around her mouth. Then the relief came, and darkness took her just as she heard someone saying, "The truth at last, eh?"

_Goodbye_, she thought as the darkness became total. She said goodbye to the whole world that she loved, before passing from dark to light, then dark again.

It was over it seemed, for Alanna of Trebond.

Gary stared at his friend's face, an odd expression on his own. He didn't want to lose _two _of his dearest friends. While Jon's condition seemed not to be escalating, they weren't sure if what the Mother had done had worked yet.

_So, the truth was your last wish_? Gary sighed, turning away from Alanna's bed. Sometimes he wished that things weren't so damn difficult, but right now they were. It seemed as if he might be losing two of his best friends. Alanna had overreached, and the magic she had used was more dangerous than anything she could normally use. She hadn't breathed in days, but the Duke swore he felt a. . . an unexplainable presence from her.

"Oh, sorry." Gary backed up from the person he had run into. While he had been thinking he had also been walking. "Your Grace!" He met Duke Roger's eyes with his own, sighing. Now he was getting suspicious of the Duke of Conté too, because he wanted to believe what Alanna had said.

"No, I apologize, Sir Gareth. I wasn't watching either. Actually, I was reading this." He held up a black, leather-bound book with a strange symbol on the cover. "It's all about the theory of the divines powers. I was reading it, since Alan used them to fix Jon--though it doesn't seem to be working. Shame. . . He sacrificed himself for nothing."

Gary felt himself clenching his fists. His face was growing hot. "He's not gone," he gritted. "The Duke says that he's still with us, somehow." Roger didn't seem to know about the words that Alanna had spoken during the spell-casting, and he didn't feel like enlightening him. In fact, Gary was beginning to hope that Duke Baird didn't either. The Duke hadn't actually told anyone about it, and he had erased his healers memories of those words. "Can I borrow that?" Gary asked on a sudden urge.

Roger looked at it for a moment, his face unreadable. Then he said, "I suppose." He handed the book to Gary, and set off down the hall, calling, "Keep it in good condition--it's one of a kind!"

Gary smiled.


	10. Otherworld

Alanna shuddered. Somehow she remembered what had happened next, even though most of it wasn't her own memory.

**Chapter Ten**

**Two Years Ago:**

Raoul was sitting next to Jon's bed in the back room one day during the last months of spring. It had been almost three months since Alanna had been 'killed' and Jonathan blinded and almost gutted. Life in the palace hadn't been the same since, especially for Raoul, Gary, Alex, Myles, Douglass and Sacherell. Jonathan's condition had long since stabilized, but he was bedridden--permanently. What was Tortall to do with a blind Prince?

"Has--is there any news of Alanna?" Jon asked, his usually sparkling eyes blank, as they had been ever since the damage. The spell Alanna had cast 'killing' herself was supposed to have brought his eyes back, but it hadn't done so.

Raoul gripped the edge of his stool until his knuckles turned white. "I'm sorry, Jon, none. There hasn't been any. Your father wants to offer her up to the Goddess, because she's 'dead', but the Duke Baird insists she's still 'alive' somehow."

"Offer her to the Goddess? Why?" Jonathan's blank eyes sparkled as he stared, unseeing, at the wall before him.

"Because the Goddess saved your life, through Alanna, 'killing' her in the process. The King thinks that the Duke has lost his edge. He says she's really dead, and we should give her up to the Goddess."

"You mean the Dark God."

"No, I mean the Goddess. Look, Jonathan, I don't understand it either. I'm not sure why they want to do this, they just do."

" 'They'?"

"Your mother and father. The King and Queen want to give her to the Goddess as thanks for saving you. They think that somehow admitting she's dead will bring your sight back, like the spell was supposed to."

"I don't want my sight back!" Jonathan snarled, ramming his fist into the bed cushion. "I want _Alanna _back. Forget my damned sight. I don't _give _a damn. I just want Alanna!"

Raoul was shocked to see the tears start falling from Jonathan's eyes. Slowly, the big knight squeezed his friends shoulder. "So do I, Jon, so do I."

Early June turned to late June, and the King and Duke Baird continued to argue. Raoul, Gary, and Myles always sided with the Duke, as did Jon, Douglass, and Sacherell. Alex remained silent during the arguments.

The first ball of summer came too. The day before it Raoul was pacing his chambers, fretting about the ball ahead. He hated balls, almost as much as Alanna did, if not more. Though he knew she had a real _reason _to hate them. She was a girl, forced to dance with a girl as if she were a boy. He made a face. He missed her. Her witty jokes and sharp tongue; her temper. . .

There was a knock on his door, bringing him out of his thoughts. He opened the door, and was nearly plowed over as Gary came into his room, holding a tome to his chest. "Look at this!" Gary said excitedly, slamming the tome onto Raoul's bed and flipping it open. Raoul sat down on the bed next to the tome, eyeing it suspiciously. Gary flipped a few more pages, and then found a page with the strange symbol that was on the cover on it. He picked it up and began to read it aloud. " 'Sometimes, during magics beyond our knowledge, the caster of the magic will seem 'dead', but really they are just in a state of otherworldness. When they use the powers more divine than the Gods', sometimes the powers are so great that the Gods' must call them away from earth for a time, until they can safely be taken back. The more power that was put into the output, the longer the Gods' must keep them. As soon as possible, the Gods' will return them--safely.'" Gary snapped the tome shut, his eyes lit up. "You see, Raoul? Duke Baird's right! Alanna's not dead. She's just being held up by the Goddess because she used so much power."

"You think?" Raoul tried to squish the spark of hope that was forming within him. He wanted desperately to agree. "But. . . It's been almost five months. Do you really think she could have used that much power for one thing?"

Gary put the tome down, sitting on one of the chairs in Raoul's room. "I don't know _what _to think, Raoul. I just hope that the book's right. I don't want to lose her."

Raoul nodded solemnly. "Me either, Gary.

"Now, about that ball tomorrow--" Raoul stopped midsentence, laughing.

"What's so funny?" Gary asked, his eyebrows drawing upwards.

"This is the first ball since--" he paused for another bout of whooping laughter "--since Jonathan's gone blind. I can't wait to see him dance!"

At first Gary didn't see the humor in it, but it only took him a moment or two, and then his eyes were watering from laughter. The two big knights laughed and talked after that, ignoring the knocks on Raoul's door for at least twenty minutes. Finally they heard the man calling, "Sir Gareth? Sir Raoul? Come see, it's a miracle!"

Raoul opened the door, and came face-to-face with Duke Baird. "Alan, the boy, he's breathing again! He hasn't woken, but he's breathing! Come, quick!"

Gary and Raoul followed, Raoul puzzling over it. Gary had told Raoul of what Alanna had said when she was helping Jonathan, about calling herself 'Alanna of Trebond'. Yet Duke Baird had called her 'Alan', and 'the boy'. Not 'Alanna', and 'the girl'. Maybe he was just going to forget that it ever happened. Maybe the Mother had _made _him forget. Raoul hoped so.

"_Lass, how are you?"_

_Alanna opened her eyes and saw George sitting next to her, his face worried. She sat up, looking around. She was in George's rooms at the Dancing Dove. "George? What's going on? Where've I been?"_

"_Home," George replied, filling a glass with water and handing it to her. "Drink up, lass."_

_Alanna put the glass to her lips, was about to drink, then lowered it without sipping. There was an odd gleam about the water. Instead of being perfectly clear there was a dark aura about it. "What's in this?" _

"_It's just water."_

"_George? Where am I?" The dark aura was seeping around the room, enclosing them in darkness until all she could see was George._

_He sighed. "'Twas too good to be true, of course. You're in the otherworld. The world of the Dead. It's the Dark God's domain here. But you aren't dead. You've got to go back--it's where you belong."_

"_What? I'm dead?" Strangely, Alanna could feel no panic at the prospect of being dead. She just sighed._

"_I wish, then we could be together. No. You're not. You saved his Highness, and used the powers even the Gods' rarely use. The Goddess couldn't help you, for even she can't harness those. But she pulled you out of the living for a while, until the energy on your body fades. Otherwise it would have killed you."_

"_I saved Jon? From what?"_

"_He was almost killed by your smilin' friend. There's another sorcerer working with Roger though, this time. He's almost as powerful as Roger. He wants to put Roger on the throne, because Roger promised Nicholas would be the highest ranking noble in Tortall--with almost as much power as the King."_

_George took a deep breath--if that was possible. "Roger didn't succeed, because of you. But now Jonathan's blind--even though your spell was supposed to fix his eyes. I think it may yet, but they'll have to give him time._

"_Speakin' of time, yours is almost up."_

"_How long've I been here?" Alanna asked._

"_Near five months."_

"_You seem to know as much about the alive world as you ever did. How?"_

"_Dreams, Alanna. I can come to people in their sleep, bend 'em to my will."_

_Alanna felt a pang of hurt. "How come you never came to see me then?" she demanded, feeling angry._

"_I didn't want to hurt you. I thought it was wrong. You have Jon, and your friends. Why should I come in your sleep and ruin it all?" He said this all simply, as if it all made sense._

_Alanna sighed. "Is Thom here?"_

"_I'm here, sister dearest." The blackness shimmered next to George, and Thom appeared wearing violet robes._

"_Thom. . . You didn't come either!"_

"_I'm sorry I didn't. But--I should have. But just as George said, you have your friends, and a life. I didn't want to hurt you."_

"_I don't care! From now on I want both of you to come visit me. Promise?" The world was getting fuzzy. She blinked, trying to clear her vision, but it only got worse. "Promise?" Her voice sounded oddly distorted._

_Both men leaned in, hugging her. "We'll see, lass, we'll see," George whispered, kissing her cheek. "From time to time."_

"_Alright," Thom agreed, ruffling his sister's hair. "See you then!"_

_The two each gave her a last hug and a kiss, and then Alanna fell away from them and into the light below._

**Please review! I know, it was odd--sorry there was no fluff, next chapter, I promise--and it was odd. But I hope you liked it, because I did!**


	11. Jonathan's Tormentor

_Why does it always have to be so horrible? _Alanna choked back a sob.

**Chapter Eleven**

**Two Years Ago:**

Raoul felt someone poke him in the ribs. Instinctively he swung his arm out and grabbed his attacker by the wrist. "Wha'cha doin'?" he demanded, sounding drunk. He blinked a few times, rubbing his stinging cheek, which had been pushed against the nightstand. "Oh, it's you." He let Gary's hand go and turned all his attention to his cheek.

"Shhh!" Gary hissed, putting a finger to his lips. Then he mouthed, "I think she's waking up."

Raoul nodded, falling silent. The redhead between them stirred ever so slightly. "Wh--where am I?"

The two burly knights cracked a grin as Alanna blinked sleepily, looking around in wonder. "What's going on? Raoul? Gary? Is that you guys?"

Raoul reached out and ruffled her short hair. "Yeah it's us--right scared us, too! You've been asleep for five months and you ask questions? No 'hello'?"

Alanna blinked again, rubbing a hand against her eyes. "What? I've been asleep five months? What happened? I don't remember anything but saving Jon."

Gary shook his head. "Hoo-boy. This is going to take a while."

So Raoul and Gary spent most of the afternoon explaining everything that had happened. When they were done Alanna--expectedly of course--demanded to be allowed to see Jonathan, yelling at Duke Baird that she was fine to get out of bed, and promptly fell over when she did, would have broken something if Gary hadn't caught her, and then said it was just because she was bedridden for five months.

Alanna's heart was heavy in her chest. _Why Goddess? Why? Did it really have to be this way. . . ? _She reached out a tentative hand, stroking Jon's thick black hair with a finger. Outside she heard speaking, and Gary's firm voice denying whoever it was entrance. Her two knight friends were standing guard so she would have some alone time with Jon.

A tear fell down her cheek. Alanna brushed it quickly away, rubbing her eyes and ordering herself not to cry. He was alive, wasn't he? What more did she have a right to ask for?

"Who's there?"

Alanna stumbled back, shocked. She hadn't even known that Jonathan was awake. His normally sparkling eyes were tight shut, and his voice was bored, as if he didn't care anymore.

"It's me," Alanna whispered, moving to kneel beside him. "I'm back."

His eyes remained shut, but Alanna saw the tears leaking from under them. "I missed you so much!" He rolled onto his side and threw his arms around her, kissing her hair. Alanna put her arms around his chest, helping him sit up.

"I'm sorry my spell didn't work. . ."

Jon shook his head, blinking away tears from his dead eyes. "It's not your fault. You did your best. Besides, I just need you to be happy." He traced her face with a finger.

Alanna's shoulders were shaking with anger. "It's not okay! I can do better than this--it's not fair! I should've been able to do something." She punched Jon's bed with her fist. "I don't like this, not one bit!" She found that tears were falling from her eyes too.

Jonathan sadly shook his head. "No. I love you, Alanna--you did all you could."

"It's not fair that I can't do more!" Alanna leapt to her feet, anger swelling inside her. She didn't even try to fight it now. "Agh!"

She thrust her magic forward. Violet fire sparked outwards, lashing like a whip at the wall. A chunk of stone fell to the floor with a thud. She turned and lashed again at the water basin. It cracked, spilling its contents everywhere. Again she turned, lashing out again and again. When she sank into an exhausted heap on Jon's bed the room was in tatters.

"_Rest daughter--all is right, for now._"

Alanna cringed, feeling the last of her energy being sapped from her. _You'll never learn, will you? _Faithful said as he leapt into her lap, Gary shutting the door behind him.

_He's right, you know_, the reasonable part of Alanna said before she collapsed against Jon.

"Alanna, wake up. . ." The voice sounded soft, like it was meant only for a dream.

Slowly, Alanna stirred, feeling gentle fingers tracing her face. Violet eyes opened, meeting sapphire. She looked up into Jon's handsome face, taking it all in. His black hair fell into his face as he leaned over her, masking part of his right eye. There was a wickedly charming sparkle in his eyes, which extended to the half-smile on his mouth.

_Gods, he looks more handsome than ever_, she mused, reaching up to touch a face like an angel's. For the first time in a long time he looked truly happy.

"Get up, lazy!" he teased, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. "The sun's shining! The meadow's ready--let's have fun!"

For a moment Alanna stood, confused. Then she took it all in. He was right, the sun was shining on the valley they were standing in. He was dressed in a black shirt, silver tunic and royal blue breeches, looking more handsome than ever.

"C'mon!" he urged.

Alanna looked down at herself, and saw that she was wearing a lilac silk dress with an appallingly low neckline. She chuckled a little, knowing that this was a dream, and somehow not caring.

"Of course, your Highness," Alanna teased, wrapping her fingers around his hand.

Jonathan lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "My Lady." Alanna was about to yell at him when he gave a sharp pull on her arm, dragging her after him. "Close your eyes," he ordered.

Laughing, Alanna turned around and shut her eyes. A moment later he pulled her around, putting something in her hair and kissing her thoroughly.

"You like it?" Jonathan asked, taking something out of her hair and handing it to her.

Alanna laughed. It was a headband of yellow daisies. "Squire Alan in a dress and a daisy headband, huh? I think he's throw a fit if he knew."

"Then let's just keep this one for Lady Alanna, okay?" When she hesitated he dropped the headband in her hair and pulled her close, kissing her softly.

Alanna felt a rush at the thrill of being kissed by Jonathan. Lately she had gotten used to it, but this time was different somehow. She felt the familiar clashing of swords in her head, and the exhilaration as she threw her opponent's sword aside and shoved Lightning against his neck.

Her eyes went wide with fear. Alanna threw herself backwards, out of Jonathan's grip. She was sweating.

"What's wrong?" He knelt next to her, looking just as he had the first time he had kissed her. . .

Alanna swallowed. "Kiss me," she ordered, shaking from head-to-toe.

"Why?"

"I don't know you idiot! Just kiss me and I'll find out."

Looking worried, Jonathan leaned over her, putting one hand firmly under her head he lowered her to the ground, kissing her softly. He pulled back quickly.

"No. Longer!" Alanna swallowed hard. She knew she had to see what was happening, but she was afraid. "It's important," she added when she saw him hesitate.

He nodded slowly, leaning in to kiss her.

This time the kiss lasted as they both sunk into it, and Alanna saw the swordfight clearly. She was circling the Duke of Conté, Lightning unsheathed. He lunged in, his eyes wild with rage. Alanna turned sideways, catching his blade on hers as he lunged by.

Roaring, he spun to face her, but Alanna swiftly took his sword.

She gulped, throwing her arms around Jon and keeping his head down. She had to stay.

Roger flung himself at her, weaponless, defenseless. Orange magic flew wildly at her, but Alanna threw it off with a violet shield. Then she ran him through with her sword--but it wasn't Roger.

Alanna screamed. Jonathan pulled back, his eyes wild. "What's wrong?" he demanded, cradling her in his arms, stroking her arm.

Tears ran down Alanna's cheeks. "R-Raoul. It wasn't Roger, it was an illusion spell. It was Raoul."

Jonathan looked at her worriedly. "Calm down," he whispered, pulling her into his lap, talking softly. "What happened--from the beginning."

Slowly, haltingly, Alanna told him what she had seen.

Seeing the panic in her eyes as she spoke, Jonathan began to wonder if he should be wary of his cousin. While Roger was his cousin, he loved Alanna, and trusted her with his life. . . But he trusted Roger also. . .

"I can't kill Raoul. . . It was an accident!"

"Alanna, shh, he's not dead!"

Jonathan reached out, putting a hand under her chin, tilting her face towards his. "Everything will be alright. I promise. There's an explanation for everything. Roger is not guilty, and Raoul is not dead." He let her face go. "Okay?"

She shrugged, not looking at him.

Then something caught Jonathan's eye. He watched for a moment, and it happened again. Alanna's ember-stone, the token of the Goddess flared up, pulsed, and then went down. It did this several more times as he watched.

"Does it often do that?" he asked, unable to keep the note of anxiety from his voice.

Alanna glanced at the stone, and shook her head.

Jonathan stopped. "What am I doing?" he asked nothing in particular. "The Goddess has granted me a temporary reprieve, and I'm wasting it wondering about your ember-stone. Let's not worry for now, alright?"

With a gulp, Alanna nodded, running her hand through his hair. "You're right, as usual. We'll worry later, for now I want you to be mine."

Jonathan kissed her softly, fumbling with the laces of her dress. She felt her hands around his neck, removing his tunic.

When it was over Jon was in a daze. He felt. . . sad. He didn't feel happy and excited like he usually did when he and Alanna had made love. Instead he felt as if some part of him was dead.

"Let's do it again," Alanna said, rolling over in his arm.

Jon blinked, forcing his eyes away from her prominently displayed chest. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the sky.

"C'mon!" Alanna sat up, running her fingers across his muscled chest. With a devilish grin she climbed on top of him, straddling him so that her chest was now hanging over his.

Jon gulped, feeling every muscle in his body tense. Something felt wrong, _very _wrong. And it was the fact that he didn't know what was wrong that scared him. He wanted nothing more than to make love once more, but something told him that he mustn't.

She lowered down against him, running her tongue across his jaw.

_Stop it_, he howled mentally, wishing by the Goddess she would stop. Something wasn't right, he knew that. And this wasn't like Alanna anyway.

Something reared up inside him, dark an ugly. Using all his strength, mental and magical, Jonathan fought it down. But it returned, lunging for him. That's when Jonathan lost control of his actions.

Suddenly he had a feeling that he felt like the lower town scum, forced to make a living from prostitution. But he was the _prince_, he did not have to do things like this. But yet his body made him.

"Got'cha." Above him Alanna smiled, pulling away from his limp form. Abruptly she changed.

There was a woman of inhuman beauty. Her skin was milky pale, but her eyes were a vibrant red. She grinned, revealing sharply angled teeth that looked much like a shark's. Around her a black cloak swirled into place, covering her naked body. She got to her feet, pulling the silky material around her.

"It's never a good idea to make love to a Goddess," the woman told him with a cold smile on her ruby painted lips. Her raven black hair fell down against her shoulders, topping off her beauty.

Jonathan struggled to his feet, feeling weak and drained. "You made me!" he roared angrily.

"Oh, did I?" Her voice was milky soft, but her face was angry. She advanced on him. "You've served your purpose--if I could I'd erase my twin's doings, but I can't. She's too fool hearted."

She ran a black painted nail across his cheek, grinning wickedly. "How would Tortall feel if it fell into the hands of Roger of Conté? Surely your dearest Alanna would be upset. But if their Prince was unable to produce an heir. . ." With a wicked laugh she showed him the foot-long blades her nails were forming. She touched his hair, pulling his head back so that she could kiss his neck. "Ooh, but it'd be such a shame--he's _so _yummy. Too bad!"

Pain rushed through Jonathan, smashing him to the ground. Blood dripped down the inside of his thigh from the wounds her nails had inflicted. He tried to struggle to his feet, but the pain between his legs knocked him down.

She laughed coldly. "Oh. . . You can fight battles can you? But you can't take it when someone claws you up down there? Shame. I'll have to tell all your enemies your weakness. Oh. Wait!" She doubled over in cold laughter. "I've already blinded you! In the real world you're barely alive. Too bad! And my sister can't fix this one without some help. Of that I know. Farewell." She said the last pleasantly, and vanished in a whirl of cloaks.

Jonathan fought for consciousness for a few more seconds, then was enveloped in darkness, a stinging pain burning him from between his legs.

**R-E-V-I-E-W! I know, aren't I evil? But more importantly--who is She, and isn't She evil? HAHAHAHA!**


	12. Kirasarra

Alanna wanted it to stop, to go away. But she was caught in the rush of horrible memories now, and all she could do was pray they'd end soon.

**Chapter Twelve**

**Two Years Ago:**

Alanna was woken up during the night by a tapping on her window. Grunting and moaning, she pulled on an overlarge nightshirt that would hide her breasts, and crawled over to the window. It was pitch black inside and out, and she couldn't see anything. After fumbling with the latch for a moment, she undid it.

"Thanks," someone grunted, slipping through the window and into the room beside her. The voice was familiar, and feminine, but she couldn't place it. She put the thought aside for now.

Alanna reached over to light a branch of candles with the flint next to them, but whoever was with her grabbed her arm. She could make out the figure shaking their head in the gloom.

"Why not?" she whispered, feeling that for some reason she should be quiet.

"I hate light," the person replied simply. "It makes my eyes hurt. In fact, it would make your eyes hurt if you spent all of eternity in hell."

Alanna swallowed, backing up against the wall, fumbling for the dagger on the table. "Don't run if you want to live," the person advised. "Sit down, listen to me; hear me out if you value you life."

Alanna sat, though not of her own will. Something stronger than she forced her downwards.

"You are Alanna of Trebond." It was not a question, it was a statement. "And your brother was Thom. You heard the prophecy he uttered: 'In the darkness lies the danger, forever bound to His will. Magic beyond his own understanding lies there. While he seeks it he puts more than himself in danger. But he will not rest, will not stop.' Once upon a time he was right. But--I assume you know he was talking about Roger--he is wrong now. The tides have turned. It is no longer His will, it is Her will."

Alanna gulped. She remembered the voice. When the Mother spoke her voice was like a lullaby, but also like the howling of the pack at hunt-time. She had heard that voice recently. But alongside the Goddess had been another woman, who could have been the Mother's twin. And while she had said nothing, Alanna somehow recognized that this was her voice.

The Goddess started to pace. "When my sister, the Great Mother, and my brother, Mithros, were born into the heavens their lowly sister was not accepted. I am the Great Mother's twin, but my heart was made of ice, the Gods' said, so they rejected me. They said they already had a Dark God, they did not need a Dark Goddess. But I found respect from the Dark God. _He _said he needed help. He was tired of dealing with the damned all the time. So he took me on as his apprentice, telling no one about me. As the years went on I became his savior--of sorts. When he was tired of toiling with the upset dead he would let me do so. Then, a year ago, when the one known as Roger began toiling with the powers of the dead, I hooked my claws into him."

She drew breath. "I used the power he was playing with to gain control. I began to put the ways to use it into his mind. But no matter how strong he was, he was still mortal. I told him how he could use the powers without tearing himself apart. He would have power to do anything with this. He listened to me. Then I used the powers he was playing with for myself. If anyone found out I would be exiled, but they couldn't; I could blame him. So I used those powers until I became more powerful than the Dark God. Now Roger serves me, as does the Dark God."

She leaned her face next to Alanna's. "I am the Dark Goddess," she whispered, her voice icy.

Alanna swallowed. "Why tell me this?" she asked, trying to keep the quiver from her voice.

"Because, I want you to tell everyone that the Dark God is last year's history. This year they must worship me, or feel my wrath."

She laughed, then, with a whirl of cloaks, she was gone.

Alanna sat there for another moment, shivering with fear sweat.

Jonathan woke up sweating. _It was just a dream_, he told himself, wishing he could look around. He strained his ears, trying to find out if anyone was in the room with him. Finally he sighed. "Is anyone there?" he called.

He waited. There was no response. Unfortunately that didn't mean anything.

Jonathan just felt himself calming down when he heard the door open. He sat bolt upright, and yelled out as pain spiked through his body from between his legs. It seemed that perhaps his 'dream' had _not _been a dream.

"What's wrong?"

Jonathan smiled gratefully, recognizing the voice as Raoul's. "Nothing," he hissed, biting his lip in pain.

"Nothing?" Raoul accused. "Of course it's nothing, Jonathan. You've been screaming all night--what happened?"

Jon managed a hoarse laugh. "I can't tell you," he replied. "It's not something that would. . . it wouldn't be right."

"Can you at least tell me why you were screaming?" Raoul asked. Jon heard him sitting down on the stool beside the bed.

Slowly, Jonathan formed an explanation. "Something horrible happened. . . Raoul, is there a Goddess who looks like the Mother with red eyes and shark teeth?"

Jonathan knew that Raoul would be frowning now. "I dunno," he said at last. "I haven't heard of one, but that doesn't mean she doesn't exist. Why? Was there on in your dream?"

"Yes. She was what made me scream. She. . ." He paused, trying to figure out how he could explain what had happened without saying it. "She tortured me--I guess. Tormented me too." He gulped, feeling tears forming in his eyes.

"How?" Raoul asked. Jonathan could sense the frown deepening on his big friend's face.

"She pretended to be Alanna."

"Oh."

Jon cringed. Clearly Raoul was putting the pieces together to the definite end. Jonathan sighed, resigning himself. "I could see too. It was wonderful. I'd almost forgotten what it was like--because even in most of my dreams. . . everything is still black."

"I'm sorry, Jonathan," Raoul said, patting his friend's arm. "If there's ever anything that Gary and I can do, let us know."

"There is," Jonathan said quickly, summing up all his courage. This took more effort than he would have imagined to say. "Don't duel Alanna. Ever. Never duel Alanna, no matter how much anyone pleads or tells you to."

"Why?"

"I don't know! I just have a feeling that it could be very bad if you dueled her--okay?"

"Alright. I guess. . . I have to go--I'll be back later."

Jon nodded, leaning back against his pillows.

He heard the door shut behind Raoul, and then everything was clear. He blinked once--twice. He could see! He was in a wooden room with a stone fireplace against one wall and a door in the other. Outside everything was dark--the light shone through the lone window above his head.

"Prrow."

Jonathan pushed himself up straight, sweat building on his forehead. Something slunk out of the corner, walking seductively towards him. The Goddess from his dream laid a hand on his face, kissing his forehead.

"You might as well know what to call me," she told him with a smile. "I have two names. I'm the Dark Goddess, or Kirasara. You may call me either."

Jon tried to push his back into the wall, but it was too painful to move. He stared at her, trying to meet her red eyes--but he found his own wandering. She was wearing black bandaging across her breasts, with a silky shirt woven together string-by-string on top of it. Over that she wore a black leather jacket that went just below her breasts, stopped, and went down her arms. This was unfastened to allow him the full view of her chest. Below she was wearing black-silk pants that flowed like a skirt, but were obviously pants. Under those he could see the white and black striped stockings on her feet. She grinned when he looked back at her face.

Determined not to give up power to her, he replied, "Then you shall call me Jonathan."

Kirasarra smiled. "Jonathan." She tested the name on her tongue, smiling at the result. "May I tell you a story, Jonathan?"

"If you like."

So she proceeded to tell him the tale she had told Alanna. As it went on, Jonathan grew more and more confused, angry, and distraught.

At last she smiled, plopping down onto the bed next to him. "So you see, I rule now. Mortals must do what I wish." She fingered a silver ring with onyx set into it. "That means you too." Kirasara smiled, touching his cheek. "It doesn't have to be horrible, if you cooperate."

Jonathan swallowed. "I don't want to cooperate," he informed her. "I love Alanna, won't you except that?"

Kirasarra smirked. "It doesn't matter if you love some silly mortal girl who's trying to become a knight. Do you want to be the reason that she fails?"

"No."

"Then you should do as I say--because I _can_ expose her for what she is. And will. What's your choice, Jonathan?" She kissed him softly, smiling the whole time.

Again the Prince swallowed. "If you swear that you won't turn her in, I'll do whatever it takes."

"That's _my _Prince."

**Hahaha! I love my evilness sometimes--don't you? Anyway, R-E-V-I-E-W. The next chapter shall haveth fluffeth, and deathith! Yar--I know, I'm weird right now. Love ya all for being great! See you next chapter!**


	13. Mysteries of Death

Alanna wiped her sweating palms on her tunic, breathing heavily. Her story was coming to close--and she knew it.

**Author's Note: There will be some briefly intense language in this chapter. You've been warned. **

**Chapter Thirteen**

**One Year Ago:**

An hour after midnight a small boy crept through the back entrance to the inn called the Dancing Dove. He wore a black cloak, shielding him against the night, but it caused his purple eyes to stand out vividly.

The boy closed the door softly behind him, and slunk towards the back stair. He had put his foot on the bottom stair when he heard a drunken drawl from above.

"I'm tellin' you! It's what he said. I'd wager both me ears on it."

Someone snorted, replying, "Yer ears are too small t'be worth nothin'. 'Sides, who'd want 'em? What with his Majesty bein' gone."

"Watch who you talk about," the other warned. "Just because that old fella Cooper's gone don't mean nothin'! There's always a Majesty, and always will be. But like I was sayin', the man said that. And I'm still bettin' me ears on it."

The violet-eyed boy took a step back into the shadows as the top stair creaked. "'Right ye are. I believe what ye say, but I'm firm that yer ears aren't worth anything to his new Majesty. And who exactly is this man you're talking about?"

"Now you mention it, I dunno." The stairs creaked as the two descended. When they came to the level the boy was on they stopped, whispering intently. But they didn't notice the boy in the shadows. "He said if we needed to ask him any questions we could ask the Duke of Conté, at the palace."

"The Duke?" the other yelped, his eyes growing wide.

The boy moved a little further into the shadows, staring intently at the men. But he couldn't make out more than their expressions in the gloom.

"That's what he said. Said the Duke'd know how to contact him."

"I'm not desperate enough to talk to that man. They say he's mad--the Duke of Conté. Ye should know the tales!"

"Not yet--but soon."

The two moved off into the crowded inn, leaving the boy alone. He breathed out and hurried up the stairs.

Trying to ignore what he'd heard, he moved along the doors, reading the numbers on them. Reaching the one he was looking for, he knocked twice, paused, and knocked three more times. After finishing an elaborate sequence the door opened a crack.

"Who goes there?" a common-born demanded.

"It's me, Marek. Just let me in, we need to talk."

Marek Swiftknife nodded, opening the door and letting the youth in. He reached for flint to light a branch of candles on the ledge over the fireplace, but the young man had already lit it with violet fire from his fingers.

The room was lit up, and Marek was cast into full relief. It was only the boy's years of training that kept him from cringing at the naked man standing before him. The boy threw his hood off, revealing a cropped head full of copper-colored hair.

"Alan of Trebond," Marek breathed, sitting down on his bed. "And to what do I have to honor this visit at this late hour?"

The boy called Alan of Trebond smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "I would have thought all the lower city's riffraff would be up and about at this hour. No? Well I'm up, and I'm ready for adventure."

Marek sniffed. "Get to the point, lad. Why're you here?"

"Tomorrow--today actually--is Prince Jonathan's birthday. I wanted it to be special for him."

"And I'm t'believe that Johnny is the Prince?"

The boy nodded. "Haven't we been over this before?"

Marek sighed. "You expect me to believe that Johnny is Prince Jonathan, you're a girl named Alanna, and all that other bull?"

Nodding the youth pulled a dagger from his--or was it hers?--weapons belt, fingering it thoughtfully. "Alanna's the name alright, Marek. It didn't take George this long to figure it out."

Marek pinched the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. "But--what about your chest? Swimmin'? How did you do any of it? And I still don't believe you."

"Would you like me to take my shirt off?"

"As a matter-of-fact--"

The youth rolled violet eyes at him. "Well I won't. I don't need you getting ideas. Now, will you help me with Jon's birthday or not?"

"Alright!" Marek cried, exasperated. "I'll pretend you're a girl named Alanna, if it's what you really want. And I'll help you with Johnny's birthday. Okay?"

"Excellent."

The red-haired youth smiled grimly as she snuck into her room. With a sigh, Alanna of Trebond flung the cloak aside and fell onto her bed. It was only a moment later that there was a knock on the door, and the eighteen-year-old squire got up and opened the door connecting her room to Jonathan of Conté's--her knight master's.

She opened the door with a sigh, and pulled Jonathan through. The black-haired, blue-eyed Prince smiled at her, his eyes sparkling lightly.

"I still can't believe you made a deal with Her," Alanna confessed, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. "It doesn't seem right to do what a Goddess says. It's. . . it's wrong."

Jonathan sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. "I know that it's wrong. But, Alanna, believe me, I didn't do it for my eyesight. I did it for you--because she said she'd tell everyone who you were if I didn't."

"You don't have to sleep with the Dark Goddess for me." Alanna felt her heart leap at how far he was willing to go for her though.

"Oh yes I do," Jon told her, pulling her into his arms and kissing her thoroughly. "Because I love you."

Alanna squirmed in his grip, feeling uneasy. "What's wrong?" he asked, brushing her hair away from her face.

So she told him what she had heard the men at the Dancing Dove saying. When she was done, Jon frowned.

"May I ask what you were doing at the Dancing Dove at one in the morning?"

"What're you doing up at three in the morning?" Alanna shot back, avoiding his question.

Jon shrugged. "I guess you have a point. And she was coming for her nightly payment." He grimaced, staring down at his hands. "It still hurts," he added. "It has ever since that. . . dream."

Alanna shuddered, touching his shoulder softly. "Jon--you don't have to feel this way, not on your birthday. We don't have to make love if it hurts that much."

Jon smirked, grabbing her hand off his shoulder and kissing it like he would a Court Lady's. "But I know how horribly upset you'd be."

Alanna tried to shield a smirk, but failed miserably. She sat heavily down on the bed, squeezing Jon's hand tightly. She wasn't in a good mood now. "I'm worried," she confessed. "About what the two at the Dancing Dove said. I don't know who they were talking about, or what he said, but it's got something to do with Roger."

Jonathan hid his own sigh, sitting down next to her. He had long since decided to listen to what she said about his cousin, no matter how much it hurt. The way Alanna feared Roger had made Jon think, and he didn't want something to go wrong because of him--so he listened.

Alanna drew breath to go on, but Jonathan swooped in, stealing his chance.

Before Alanna realized it, Jon's mouth was touching hers softly, and his hands were in her hair, playing with it absently. She heaved an inward sigh, then kissed her Prince back.

The two were sprawled across the bed, unclothed, when there was a knock on the door.

Alanna shoved Jonathan off her, cursing like Coram and the other guards-men that had taught her. "Shit," she muttered again, pulling her overlarge night-shirt on over her loincloth.

Beside her Jonathan was shoving his arms into his tunic and pulling his breeches on. Alanna got up, heading for the door. She glanced over her shoulder one last time, to see Jon leaning against the wall, flipping absently through one of her books.

Glancing down to make sure her shirt covered everything, Alanna opened the door.

"Squire Alan of Trebond, their Royal Majesties wish to see you at once in King Roald's private study--please bring his Royal Highness with you," a panting messenger said, before darting off down the hall.

Alanna stared after him, her mouth opened slightly in confusion. She glanced over her shoulder at Jon, who shrugged, tossed Alanna, her breeches, and set off down the hall.

Still star-struck, Alanna clambered into her breeches, grabbed a sleeping Faithful off her bed, and ran down the hall after Jon, the cat meowing angrily the whole way.

When she caught up to the Prince he was frowning deeply. "Why do my parents want to see us?" Jon asked, stroking Faithful absently. The cat purred, rubbing his face against Jon's hand.

"I was wondering the same thing," Alanna murmured.

When the two arrived outside King Roald's private study, Alanna waited a few steps behind Jon as he knocked.

_Ow_, Faithful snapped, biting down softly on her wrist. _You're clutching me. _

"Sorry," Alanna whispered, trying to loosen her sweating hold on the cat.

The door opened and Jonathan went in, beckoning for Alanna to follow. They stepped inside. Alanna's stomach turned over.

Faithful leapt from her arms, hissing madly, his fur bristling. There was blood everywhere, covering the ancient scrolls that the King himself studied. Lying on one of the chairs was Queen Lianne, wearing a pale pink dressing gown spattered with red liquid. There was a long, but shallow, gash in her left arm, another on her cheek, and a third cut through her robes.

On the floor was Duke Gareth of Naxen, blood smeared all over him, a sword in his hand. Alanna glanced at Faithful, who was hissing wildly at Duke Roger, who was staring with horror at the scene before him. There was also Gary, his face paler than a sheet of paper, leaning shamelessly on a serving girl who could barely hold him up.

Alanna rushed to her friend's side, gripping his arm and letting him lean on her. The serving girl crawled out from under his weight, murmuring thanks to Alanna.

Jonathan knelt over his mother, talking quietly with her. The King was leaning against a bookshelf, his eyes wide.

Alanna licked her lips, adjusting under Gary's immense bulk a little bit.

"Roger, please," the king breathed. "Show the evidence to the Prince and Squire Alan. It's best that we're all versed in what happened--to the greatest degree we can be." The king turned to Alanna. "Can you help Duke Gareth?"

Cold sweat broke out on Alanna's hands and forehead. So this was why they wanted her. She looked worriedly up at Gary. He offered her what looked like it was meant to have been a smile. "I'll manage Fire-Top," he whispered, clutching the back of a chair.

Shaking, Alanna let Gary go, moving slowly to the center of the bloodied room. She knelt next to Duke Gareth, trying to smile at him. He laughed, but it sounded like a dog's bark more than anything. "I know my time is up, Alan. Do what you can to ease the pain--alright? That's all I ask." He grimaced, letting the sword fall from his hand. "I've done my duty. I stopped the killer from getting the King and Queen. He took me instead. It was my duty."

Cursing inwardly, Alanna knelt down in the blood, moving the Duke's sword aside. She touched his temples with her fingers, sending a violet probe deep into him.

Alanna pulled back, breathing heavily, sweating visibly. The damage was horrible. It wasn't the wounds that were killing him, it was magic. She touched the ember-stone, and the Duke lit up with yellow magic, shimmering wildly. The whole room lit up with the stuff, only Roger retained a normal color--he didn't even glow orange.

Alanna swallowed. "Everyone, get out," she ordered, shakily rising to her feet. "There's magic in here--loads of it. It'll poison us all if we stay."

If it was possible, the king turned paler. No one moved. "You heard him!" the King bellowed at last. "Let's get out of here--now!"

The others fled, Jonathan carrying his mother out. Alanna stayed, kneeling down beside Duke Gareth. She saw Roger watching her before he left.

"Wait," the Duke rasped, gripping Alanna's hand. "Let me talk to my son."

Testing the magic in the air, Alanna nodded, realizing that for the moment they were okay. She turned to call Gary in, but realized that he had never left, and was already standing next to her, kneeling down beside his father.

Duke Gareth gripped Gary's hand, smiling weakly. "I'm sorry I'm leaving, son," he said softly. "I wish I could say 'take care of your mother', but I've just received news that she caught the flu passing through. She's dead, Gary." He shuddered. "You'll do great. It was my greatest wish to see you become a knight, and you've done it. Now all that's left is you have to take a wife and start a family. I'm sure you'll do good. And with friends like Alan and Raoul--your cousin, Jon, even Alex--" Alanna stiffened but said nothing-- "I know you'll do well. Naxen is left to you son--use it well." He turned to Alanna. "Please, I see the way you look. I know you can do nothing. Can you ease the pain though?"

Alanna swallowed and nodded. She put her fingers to his temples, letting her magic flow into him. He sighed as the pain was washed away. "Please, my sword." Gary handed his father his sword, and the Duke clasped it in both hands, letting it rest across the length of his body. "Goodbye, Gareth."

Then the Duke closed his eyes, and his chest stopped moving. Alanna stared, stunned. She turned to her friend, and was shocked to see that Gary, the usually strong and upheld Gary, was crying. She touched her friend's arm, helping him to his feet.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do anything, Gary," Alanna whispered, squeezing his arm and blinking away her own tears.

"It's not your fault. But. . . Alanna--? Thank you. You let him go in peace--I know that's what he wanted. He would have wanted to die protecting the Royal Family. And he died without the pain too." Gary blinked another tear away, and hugged Alanna tightly, then followed her out into the hall where the others were waiting.

Roger was twirling a dagger between his fingers, talking quietly to Jon. The Prince was staring with rapt attention at the silver dagger, flicking in circles. Alanna circled warily, watching it. She felt herself growing drowsy, and darted in, grabbing the dagger from the Duke before he knew what had happened.

"Is this the blade?" she asked, running her hand over the blade and sensing the magic in it. It was weakly hidden--obviously they hadn't thought she would be around. She touched the ember-stone--it glowed yellow.

"Yes, it killed the Duke and attacked the Queen," Roger said slowly, blinking a few times. He was clearly startled that she had taken the blade so easily from him. Jon peered at it over her shoulder.

"Do you know a sorcerer with yellow magic?" Alanna asked, handing the dagger to Jon and meeting Roger's blue eyes.

The Duke nodded, looking grim. "Yes. But--how do you know that the magic was yellow?"

"Never mind that! Who is he? Or she. Whoever it is laid magic in the study, and on this dagger."

"His name is Nicholas Coal. He's a friend from the city. I worked a few spells with him once."

Alanna felt something nagging at her mind, and touched the ember-stone absently. Orange fire lit up Roger, the dagger, the Prince, and herself. She swallowed.

Something black launched itself from nowhere, clinging to the Duke's face. Faithful, hissing and spitting, knocked the Duke into the wall, and the magic vanished. Alanna breathed out--Faithful had saved them.

"Get this infernal cat off of me!" Roger howled, struggling with Faithful.

Alanna pried Faithful off of Roger, hissing coldly at him. "Don't stay once your job is done--it's suspicious," she hissed, walking back to the others with her cat.

"Thank you, Alan. You have eased Duke Gareth's passing." Alanna stopped walking, staring at the King. "It is late, you should return to your bed now. Someone will inform you of the funeral in the morning."

"Yes, sire," Alanna bowed, setting her worries aside for later. She put Faithful onto his favorite perch--her left shoulder--and left everyone behind, trying not to fret. "Later," she told her cat as he began to speak.

**Please review! Comments and criticism welcomed! We're coming to the end--of the past that is. What happens in the present? You'll find out in a few chapters, probably, not quite sure. R-E-V-I-E-W! As for those of you who review every chapter--love ya! As for those who review occasionally, glad you care! As for those of you who never review but read anyways, hope you like it! Another thanks to tortallanrider and elven cats eyes and cheeseycraziness for being just plain old awesome and supportive!**


	14. Betraying the Prince, Or Not

Alanna heard a rustling in the bushes and crept towards it. When she opened the bush and thrust Lightning into it she found nothing. Swearing softly she moved back to her post, watching Roger.

**Chapter Fourteen**

**One Year Ago:**

Alanna paced back in forth in her room three weeks later, pondering all that she had heard. The Duke's funeral had been that morning, and had left everyone mourning. Alanna had thought about going to visit Gary, but had decided against it, figuring that he wanted to be alone.

In fact, right now everyone she knew wanted to be alone--except her. It was funny, Alanna thought, but right now she wanted nothing more than to be comforted by her friends. . . But it was Gary they should all be comforting not her--right?

_You'll wear a hole in the floor and fall in on whoever lives in the room below_, Faithful chided, getting up and making a small circle, then flopping back down on the unmade bed. _I know how you feel, but you can't do anything right now. _

"I hate it!" Alanna snarled, rounding on her cat with clenched fists. "I hate not knowing what they're planning next--who they'll strike. They attacked the Royal Family, Faithful. It's only because of Duke Gareth's sacrifice that they aren't dead. Who knows who's next?"

Faithful washed his face with a paw, calm as ever. _But you can't do anything. This fact remains. For now you should focus on not worrying, helping your friend, and being strong. When they do strike--you should be ready. _

Alanna sighed, sitting down next to her cat. Her anger washed away, as if it had never been. Suddenly she felt calm, even relaxed. Alanna shook her head, trying to clear it--but she couldn't. She was tired, sleepy.

_Yes,_ she thought. _Sleep, that will make everything alright. _

Alanna shut her violet eyes, leaning back against the wall.

"MROW!" Faithful launched himself at Alanna's face, clawing at her shirt and hair. _Wake up! _he yelled.

Alanna sat bolt upright, ignoring the stinging scratches her cat had left. Standing before her was a man with a knife, bloodied in the face with what looked like claw marks. He was advancing now, ignoring the black folds of material that had been torn from his face. Alanna recognized him with sudden clarity--and fear.

Alexander of Tirragen came towards her, a dagger in hand. He stabbed. Alanna rolled to the side, ducking as she fell to the floor. She leapt to her feet, looking wildly around for a weapon. Lightning was on the other side of the room, glimmering in its sheath.

Alex charged, lunging with the dagger. Alanna ducked, rolling to the side. She leapt to her feet once more, grabbing for her own dagger--it was gone. Swearing, Alanna dodged blow after blow, trying to move towards Lightning.

Faithful, seeing what his mistress was doing, launched himself on the back of Alex's head. Alex screamed in pain and tried to ram the cat into the wall. Faithful leapt clear and clung to Alex's head, clawing him.

Alanna charged for all her might. She turned in time to see something silver and shining fly at her, but couldn't dodge the flying dagger. Trying to remember everything George had taught her about dirty fighting, Alanna flung her body to the right, and felt the dagger bury itself in her left shoulder. The pain was bad, but not unbearable.

Faithful leapt from Alex, scaled the curtains, and flew at him again as Alex charged. It gave Alanna the moment she needed. She ripped the dagger loose and threw it back at Alex, who dodged, but slipped on the ripped curtains that were on the ground. Alanna grabbed Lighting, ripping it from its sheath and turning to face Alex.

He had his sword out too, and was smiling cruelly. "Get out of here!" Alanna screeched to Faithful, blocking as Alex swung down, then tried to break her guard from below. "Get help!"

Faithful leapt down from his perch on the curtains, and bounced off Alex's head, his claws out the whole time. He flew through the open door, screaming that he'd be back soon.

"It's just you and me now," Alex said, his eyes flashing dangerously. He lunged in to the left, darted out, went to the right then came up and over.

Alanna dodged the first strike, parried the second, and the third grazed off her arm as she threw herself out of his sword's path. She rolled, climbed to her feet, and was driven to her knees as he crashed his sword onto Lightning's hilt, coming body-to-body.

"Prepare to die, Trebond!"

It was true. Alanna was being pushed onto her back, and if she didn't get out soon then she would be dead. Swearing, Alanna did the only thing she could. Violet fire lanced through Lightning, lending the sword power. Alanna pushed back up, dropped the sword and rolled to the side as Alex's came down where she had been.

Now it was his turn to swear, and round on her. Alanna charged him, as she had once done to Ralon of Malven. She hit him around the waist with her shoulder, then grabbed his sword arm, pulling it behind him.

Alex spun around, kicking her in the stomach. He wrenched his arm loose and dropped his sword, tackling her to the ground.

Alanna didn't waste breath for swearing. She tried to shove him off, but wrestling was her weak point. Instead she elbowed him in the stomach as George had taught her when she was pinned. Then she grabbed his hair, pulling it as hard as she could.

Alex screamed in pain, but Alanna held on tight, being sure to kick him in the stomach as she crawled out from under him. She pushed him to the ground and got on his back, pushing both her knees into his shoulders, still pulling on his hair. "Give up, Alex?" Alanna panted.

"Not on your life," Alex snarled. He threw his elbow into her face, and Alanna fell off, swearing at not being on her guard. She leapt sideways as he charged, and ran behind him as he skidded to a halt, inches from the wall. She grabbed Lightning from the ground, lunging for his sword.

"Now, now."

Alanna reached his sword just as a foot in black came down on it. She looked up and saw a man with dirty-blond hair, smiling at her. He was incredibly handsome, with a chiseled jaw, straight nose and sparkling silver eyes. He was wearing all black--black shirt, black breeches, black boots--and that made his eyes and hair stand out even more. Alanna wondered if Jon was that handsome for a moment, then shook the thought away.

"I suggest you put that sword down--you don't want to have to fight two of us," the man said, offering her a hand. Alanna glanced between him and Alex, who was standing next to the taller man with his arms crossed over his chest.

The voice of the man was familiar, but a higher note than the one she attached it too. Besides, how could anyone so handsome be so cruel? "Come now, lad," the man said, smiling warmly. "Give me your hand and I'll help you up. We aren't after you. You merely got in the way."

Alanna got to her feet, brushing his hand away and tightening her hold on Lightning. Now that the fight was over and the adrenaline rush had gone, her left shoulder ached terribly, and her stomach hurt. Blood was pooling up on her shirt too, which meant that Alex had gotten her at some point. She couldn't take them both on, that was true. Alanna decided to buy some time, hoping that Faithful would be back soon--with help.

"I'm called Dreke Coal, Nicholas's brother. I'm sure you've heard of him--from Roger? He's the one with the magic you spoke of. Fool."

Alex shifted beside Dreke, Alanna noticed. He was moving slowly into a fighting stance. Alanna didn't wait. She lunged him, Lightning piercing his defenses--he wasn't ready. Lightning drew blood from his thigh, battered his sword arm, and cut a shallow line down his chest. Then Alanna knocked him to the ground, sending his sword flying.

"You should be ready for anything," Alanna hissed, holding Lightning at his throat.

"You're good, Trebond, that I admit." He smiled at her, the rest of his ripped face-mask falling off his mysterious face. "But I didn't fight you for them--I fought for me. And I _will _kill you, never fear."

Alanna made a childish face at him, removing Lightning from his throat. He stood up, glaring at Dreke, who hadn't done anything.

Dreke raised his hands, shrugging. "It's not my place _to_ doanything, Alex," Dreke pointed out, crossing his arms. "Now, Trebond, we owe you an apology. Alex had no permission to attack you, and did so unprovoked. We were after the Prince, you were merely here."

"I was not 'merely here'!" Alanna snarled, tightening her grip on Lightning. She decided to wonder later about why they hadn't just used the Prince's door. "I am my Prince's squire, I will not let you kill him--not without a fight!"

"Brave words from a small scamp," Dreke pointed out, frowning. "Nonetheless, you did have a fair fight against Alex. I witnessed it. But I must mention that. . . er. . . this wasn't supposed to happen. Alex wasn't supposed to fight you. Now, will you please let us into 'your Prince's rooms?"

Alanna spat on the floor at his feet. Staring up into his handsome face she hissed, "Never will I betray Jonathan."

Dreke shrugged. "Have it your way." Alanna felt a familiar drowsiness coming over her again--taking her.

"Alan!"

Alanna recognized the voice. . . _Jon_, she thought weakly. "Go," she whispered, pleading him to leave. But he wouldn't. He caught her as she fell into unconsciousness, and the last thing she heard was Dreke sneering, "So, _you're _Jonathan of Conté?"

**Hahaha! Review please, or else. . . I'll do something worse to Jon than I had planned! Hope you liked!**


	15. Dididum, Goddess's CAN Be Stupid

Roger was laughing over something now; the man he was talking to was familiar. Hatred rushed through Alanna, hatred almost worse than her hatred for Roger. Her grip on Lightning tightened .

**Chapter Fifteen**

**One Year Ago:**

What happened next was blurry. Alanna barely remembered waking up and asking where Jon was--ordering the Duke was more like it, actually. The Duke replied that the Prince would be alright--eventually. This made Alanna pester him for a while longer, until he told her that he had to see to Jon himself.

Alanna grumbled after him, her tongue sharp. "Fire-Top, you shouldn't sharpen your tongue on the Duke like that."

Alanna turned stiffly to see Gary walking towards her, his face a little less dull than it had been the last few weeks. He pulled up a stool and sat down, staring at her bandages, his eyes growing sleek.

She touched his arm gently. "I'm sorry about your father," she whispered, trying to keep him from sinking back into depression.

Gary shook her hand off a little roughly, shrugging. "No one could have done anything." She noticed his voice was hollow. "He died doing what he loved--helping people."

"Any word on who the new training master is?"

"I don't know." Gary looked away from her, refusing to meet her gaze for several long minutes. Finally he said, "The King's thinking of appointing Lord Laycon of Tirragen."

"Who's he? Is he related to Alex?" Alanna asked, frowning. She didn't recognize the name.

"Some dried up crack-pot fool friend of the King, no doubt. Yeah, he's Alex's uncle."

"Gary!" Alanna gasped.

"He's lost his edge, you know it."

"Maybe he has, but he's still Jon's father! Speaking of Jon, how is he? Have you seen him? What happened?"

"No, I haven't seen him. And no, I don't know what happened--you'll have to get the story from Jonathan." Again Alanna heard the bitter hollowness in her friends voice, and the way he was acting made her wonder even more.

"Are you alright, Gary? You're being really weird." She put her hand on his forehead, feeling for a fever. Absently Alanna touched the ember-stone. Gary pulsed with yellow magic, tinted with orange.

Alanna yelped in horror. Violet fire lanced from her fingers; her head began to pound. She wouldn't break her concentration though. She fought all of the boundaries on the magic, shoving them away. With an inward snap, they broke off with a sound of cracking bone.

"Alan?" A firm hand was rested on her shoulder, shaking her softly.

Alanna opened a pair of bleary eyes, and met Gary's dark eyes squarely. He moved his face away from hers, sighing with relief. "I thought I'd lost you just then, Fire-Top."

Now she sighed. He was back to normal. "Gary, just a little bit ago, did you feel weird or anything?"

He frowned, running a hand through his hair. "I dunno. I don't remember what's happened for the past few days as more than a blur really." His face hardened and Alanna saw his eyes were sparkling. "The last thing I remember clearly was Father's funeral. For a while before that and since then everything's fuzzy."

Alanna nodded solemnly. Then a thought came to her as she glanced at the bandage around her wounded stomach. "How did they--you know--?" She gestured towards her torso, feeling stupid.

"What? Oh." Gary blushed fiercely. "The Duke knows, remember? Last year when you saved Jon? I guess he's willing to protect your secret--or the Goddess wipes his memory--or something." He looked away, his cheeks flushed crimson.

Alanna couldn't stifle a laugh at the color of Gary's face. "Jon didn't blush that much when he first saw me naked," Alanna whispered into Gary's ear.

That earned her a laugh from the big knight. "So it's true?" Gary teased. "About the homosexual prince and his squire?"

Alanna snorted, slapping her friend playfully on the arm. _Good times_, she thought, a little sadly. _He's back to normal. . . But how's Jon? And how long will this go on? What happens when I go through the Ordeal and get my shield? Then I have to leave. . . And I lose my friends--but at the price of what? And what about Roger? And Nicholas, the yellow magic bearer--and Dreke, whoever _he _is. Because I'll eat the Goddess live if he's _just _Nicholas's brother. _She frowned, drawn out of her thoughts by a repetitive tapping noise.

"Squire Alan?"

Alanna peeled tired eyes open, realizing that he must have fallen asleep thinking. Duke Baird stood above her, tapping a piece of charcoal on a notepad. "You wish to see the Prince, you said."

Alanna disentangled herself from the blankets, crawling out of the bed, thankful that all the palace night-shirts were at least five sizes too big for her. She followed Baird into a small room in the back, the same one Jon had been in when he had been blinded. The Duke opened the door and let her in.

Alanna shut the door behind her, then turned to the room.

She winced. Jonathan was wrapped in bandages along his upper right arm, lower left arm, stomach, chest, and both legs. His face sported a bandage wrapped around his head, pushing his hair away from a forehead wound. Sitting next to his bed on a chair was the raven-haired red-eyed 'Dark Goddess' Alanna had met once before. She was wearing a silk black shirt, with only one button done right between her breasts, and a tiny red skirt that went just low enough not to show her privates'. She was wearing black boots that went to her knees with horse-boot heels made at least five inches longer.

The woman frowned at Alanna, pursing her ruby lips. "What're _you _doing here?" she demanded icily, standing up.

"I came to see Jon," Alanna replied, determined to keep her voice from shaking. "I should ask the same of you though."

The Dark Goddess paused. "You're a clever human--I must say. I came for payment." She smiled broadly, showing her shark-teeth. "By the way, I might as well tell you since I told him. You may call me Kirasarra."

"Whatever pleases you," Alanna murmured, thought inwardly she was boiling with anger.

"But it seems that I'm cheated today. Who injured my Prince so that he could not give me that which I love?" Her voice was pleasant--cheerful now. Alanna almost felt sorry for Dreke and Alex. She nodded. "I see the images in your mind, squire-ling. They will pay--somehow. But what about my payment? I want it tonight. . . What about those other friends of Jonathan's? Ah, yes. Gary and Raoul. Gary is his cousin, is he not? And Raoul comes from one of the most prestigious families in Tortall. Goldenlake."

"Leave them out of this," Alanna growled. "You made a deal with Jon, the deal must remain there. By the code of honor," she added when the Dark Goddess opened her mouth to interject.

The woman laughed, cold and high. "Oh, dear! The gods' have no need to hold up the 'code of honor'. It's a chivalrous thing and therefore must only be looked at by mortals. Now, it's your choice. Who shall I pick? Or should both be tortured?"

Alanna gaped, open-mouthed. How was she supposed to pick which of her friends the Dark Goddess slept with? She tried to imagine both of their answers, and received no help. They'd both do it to keep her secret a secret.

"They would, hmm?"

Alanna had almost forgotten the Dark Goddess's presence. Slowly, she smiled. "I have someone else for you. Someone just like you."

The Goddess's red eyes brightened. "Oh?"

"Alexander of Tirragen."

"One of the ones who harmed my Prince?"

Alanna cringed when the woman called Jon 'my Prince'. She nodded. "Yes. Couldn't you return the favor, harm him back?" _Great Mother let me know what I'm doing! _Alanna added silently.

The Dark Goddess smiled coldly. "You are wise indeed--especially for being so young, squire-ling. I will harm this Alex, and take payment from him. And I might just do the same to Roger, Dreke and Nicholas. The others who harmed my Prince."

"You do that now," Alanna said sweetly. The Goddess vanished. Alanna turned back to Jon, moving next to him. She knelt on the stone floor, ignoring the pain that spiked through her knees.

"It's all my fault," Alanna whispered, stroking his sweat-soaked. She touched his forehead, worried. "Ouch!" Alanna yelped, drawing her hand hurriedly back. He was burning up!

She touched the ember-stone at her throat. He lit up with gray magic; it pulsed gently around him, targeting his wounds. Alanna gulped. She was tired already, to use her magic again would mean over-reaching, but what choice did she have?

Steeling herself for the exhaustion and nausea to come, Alanna thrust her magic outwards. The wards on the gray-caster's magic was strong, but she shoved through them with brute force. Slowly she used her healing under the magic.

Alanna opened bleary eyes, meeting Jonathan's. He smiled weakly. "Uh-n." Alanna collapsed on her side, unconscious before she hit the floor.

**Please review! More soon. Sorry it's been SOOOOOOOO long! I'm really sorry. But volleyball's almost over, then I'll have more free time--maybe. BYE!**


	16. Deals With Smart Asses

Something struck her from behind. Alanna bit down on the scream. Something rolled her over. She looked up into those eyes, ones that had haunted her nightmares since she first saw them.

**Chapter Sixteen**

**One Year Ago:**

Alanna of Trebond dreamt that night:

"_Good t'see you, lass." She recognized the warm voice, even over the howling wind. A bitter cold bit her hands, but for that voice she would ignore it. _

_Alanna of Trebond was standing on top of a peak, overlooking all of Tortall. She could see it as she would see a map, and Corus didn't look good. The palace radiated with three colors of magic. One yellow, one orange, and one storm-gray._

_Someone put their arms around her waist, turning her around. "George," she breathed, looking up into his hazel eyes. He smiled sadly, then pulled her into a bear-hug. "Why didn't you come sooner--you promised!"_

"_I couldn't," he explained patiently, stroking her hair. Alanna was shocked to feel wetness in her hair. George was crying. "I was. . ." He let her go. Grim faced he turned from her._

"_What, George?" Alanna asked gently, touching his heavily muscled arm. Even in death George was still the true King of Thieves._

"_Detained," he said at last. "The newcomer? Kirasarra is what she makes us call her. She deals with the dead now. The only times I could get away was when she was gone, and that wasn't often. When she left, I went to get information. I wanted lots before I came to see you."_

"_What do you mean?" Alanna wanted to know, rubbing her freezing arms. _

_George turned back to her, grimfaced. "There's too much for you not t'know," he explained patiently. "I had to find all I could out before I came t'you. Those men that are workin' for Roger? They're not who they appear. I did some research . There were three Malven brothers. Three were disowned when Ralon raped a girl after leavin' the palace."_

"_I don't understand."_

_He shook his head gravely. "Roger's workin' with two of 'em! Nicholas and Dreke Coal. Neither one has a commoner's lilt! They're the other two Malven boys."_

"_Are you sure?" Alanna was shivering now, and not just from the cold._

_George nodded. "Yes, lass, I'm sure. I went dream-walkin'. I'm sure alright." He took a step closer, rubbing his large hands along her arms. Alanna shivered gratefully. He pulled her close, tucking her head under his chin. She leaned against him, thanking the warmth that he gave her. "They're in it for reasons you won't expect. Nicholas is true to his word. He just wants to be nobility. But Dreke. . . His mind's guarded by some damn powerful spells. I can't see through them, even in his dreams. He's clouded in fog, lass."_

"_Fog?" Alanna wondered aloud. "Could the fog that's hiding him be a Gift?"_

"_Never heard of a storm-cloud Gift. But sure, it's possible. For that matter, look at Corus. . ." He pointed out across the mapscape below. Corus is radiating gray. It's not in a fog, is it?"_

_Alanna shook her head under his chin. "No, it's not. And when. . . when I looked in on Jon, he was radiating storm-cloud gray magic."_

_George looked down at her, looking grim. "So it's true. He's shielded by a storm Gift."_

"_But I thought--"_

"_Whatever you were about to say you thought, you thought wrong." Alanna and George turned, the girl squire still tucked under George's chin._

_Kirasarra advanced on them, wearing a full length black cape made of fur over a long black satin clingy dress. "I thought I'd told you never to visit the mortals." she hissed, eyes flashing on George._

_He held Alanna close to him, holding his ground. "You told us never to visit the mortal _realms_," George corrected. "I brought her here. You can't call this--" he waved a hand around him-- "the mortal realms."_

_Kirasarra glowed red with rage. "Well next time, don't do it at all," she spat._

"_She has to know," George replied coolly, as though he argued with Goddess's all the time._

"_You're ruining my plans!" Kirasarra screamed. Black filtered around her in another ring. Red rimmed her body and clothes, black shifting in an outline around the red. "_Dark Riders_!"_

_There was the sound of clattering hooves, neighs of horses, and then screams of men. Alanna screamed when they came into view. George held her to his side, his eyes wide with fear._

_They were the same as the cloaked figure Alanna had seen in the forest a year before. They were robed in black cloaks, their hoods drawn up. They were all roughly the same height, seated on black horses with bat wings. The horses reared as one, black eyes rolling. They showed fangs, the same as the Dark Goddess's. And the men glared out from under their cloaks, and Alanna knew their eyes were red. _

"_Come here," Kirasarra ordered. One man rode forward, his horse slightly larger than the others and somehow familiar. _

"_Your most imperial majesty." Alanna knew the voice, but she couldn't remember it. The man climbed off his horse, knelt, bowed his head, and rested one arm across his knee. "What can the Dark Riders do for you?"_

_Kirasarra was fuming now. Puffs of red and black fell off of her and floated into the stormy air above. "Kill them," she hissed._

"_As your most imperial majesty wishes," the man replied, standing and swinging himself back into the saddle. "Kill them!" he yelled, drawing a black sword and leveling it at Alanna and George. _

_Despite their peril, Alanna's breath was taken away by the sword. It shimmered black, its surfaces glimmering from the strange light cast all around. The hilt had a firm leather grip on it, and seated in the pommel was a shimmering red stone._

"_Run," George instructed, shoving her behind him._

"_No!" she yelled, trying to keep her balance. She was toppling on the edge of the peak. In seconds she would fall below to her doom. George drew a sword, and cast one last wild glance at her. She hadn't left him that time, and she wouldn't leave him this time either. He reached back, gave her a loving smile, and pushed her over the edge._

"_I'll see you soon," he whispered, but she heard him clearly even as she fell. She crashed down, and pain rushed through her body. _

"George? No, George, don't. Let me stay--I'll help."

Alanna woke with a start, surprised by her own voice. Gingerly, she looked around. Her head was pounding, and her stomach felt unnaturally weak.

"Alan? You're awake. Excellent." Duke Baird leaned over her, touching her temples with cool fingers. She felt magic snake into her, and calmness wash over her. "You just overreached. You'll be fine with a few more days of rest."

Alanna woke up with a start. She was sweating, and everything was dark. Blinking, she looked around. Where was the light? Even at night things were brighter than this. "Squire Alan."

The voice cracked through the dark like a whip. Light flared off to her left, and she tried to turn. Agony bit into her as she rolled onto her side; her wounds still ached. Gray light faded, and a ghostly aura appeared around a man. His back was to her, but she could see he was dressed in black with dirty-blond hair.

"Who's there?" Alanna called weakly. Where were the other patients? There was no one else here.

The man turned around, and his face came into full relief. "It is I, of course," he whispered, walking nearer. She saw his silver eyes. Dreke Coal. Instantly George's warning flashed in her mind. "But Dreke. . . His mind's guarded by some damn powerful spells. I can't see through them, even in his dreams. He's clouded in fog, lass."

She gulped. He smiled, kneeling down next to the bed he met her on eyelevel. "So, will you help me?"

"What d'you mean?" Alanna demanded, sweat building on her forehead as she fought the pain in her body.

"I mean, will you help me to overthrow Roger?"

"But why would you want to do that? You have nothing to gain if Roger is thrown off the throne after he gains it."

"I want revenge, sweetling," Dreke explained gently. "And besides, if you don't help me than all will know your secret." He straightened up. "The infamous Squire Alan of Trebond is really Alanna of Trebond, a run-away girl. Isn't that sweet?"

"How do _you _know?" Alanna snarled.

"I have my ways, sweetling," he whispered, turning his back to her.

"What have _I _got to do with getting rid of Roger?"

"Everything. If there is one person Roger is unsure of their standing, it is you. Once he thought you a pawn, now he doesn't know what you are. Too many times you have saved the Prince from his doings. Too many times have you defeated that which no one else saw. That is why I need _you_. Roger doesn't know what to do with you, sweetling. I could be a valuable asset. I no more want Roger king than you do. All I want is to make those who destroyed my life pay. I presume that fellow Cooper told you all?"

Alanna frowned. How did Dreke know about that?

"I want to make all of Malven pay. I want to make Ralon pay. And I want to make Roger pay."

"Why Roger? He had nothing to do with Ralon being disowned."

"But he had everything to do with something else." His face was cold as he turned back to her. "Lady Delia was once my lover. And Roger offered her a place to help him. She took it eagerly, just because she wanted power. Roger stole my life as much as my family did. He will pay as well."

"Why did you try to kill Jon if you don't care?"

"I wanted nothing more than to make Roger think I was on his side. Do not believe that I would have actually killed the Prince."

_He's good_, a voice in the corner of the room said. Faithful leapt up next to Alanna, eyeing Dreke suspiciously. _He's thought this over. He knows what questions you will ask. But he is _lying

Grimly, Alanna nodded her agreement. Dreke saw the cat, and knelt again, eyeing Faithful. "And I suppose this is your mage's cat? The one with purple eyes?" Light flared briefly, blinding Alanna, then Dreke straightened. "So it is true." He had gone very pale. "You really do have a cat with violet eyes." He whistled. "What do you say, then? Will you let me help you?"

"I thought _I _was helping _you_."

"It goes both ways," Dreke explained. "You help me, I help you. I want revenge, you want to get rid of Roger. You know how it works. So?"

Alanna glanced at Faithful. He caught her eyes and held them, saying, _His words are warped, but I believe that you may help him. BUT--! _he added when she started to speak to Dreke, _I still think he is dangerous. Do not sink in too deep. You have your own set of problems--first and foremost being becoming a knight without your secret being spilt. After that it is protecting the Crown from Roger. And your duty to the Gods. _

Alanna nodded. "Alright, if it really does go two ways," she told Dreke.

He clasped his hands, grinning. "Excellent." Fog colored magic shrouded her, and then everything blanked.

**I know, it was fluff less. Sorry. But I have to do this. This is called plot. Fluff shall try to be included soon. Please Review! And I am SO, SO, SO sorry that I haven't written on this in forever. I really meant too. But then I sort of forgot what was happening and on top of everything else I had to reread this before I could work on it. SORRY!!!**


	17. Tales of Truth

_I wish it didn't have to end like this, _Alanna thought miserably. The man put his sword back in its sheath, offering a hand. She gulped.

**Chapter Seventeen**

**One Year Ago:**

_I'm tired of being knocked out_, Alanna mused, though with little humor. She pushed her tired eyes open with a groan. "How long this time?" she whispered hoarsely. She cleared her throat and tried again, with no better result. "Water," she croaked.

One of the lesser healing mages came over with a full pitcher of water. Alanna downed its contents in a few hurried gulps, then sat up, gasping for breath. "Can--can you fetch Duke Baird?" she asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

The healing mage nodded, backing away from her while bowing deeply. Alanna sighed. _Hate damn formalities. _She yawned, stretched, and winced. The bandage at her side was tender. She rolled onto her other side, fluffing up her pillow.

Something yowled. _That was my _tail_ you just rolled onto_, Faithful scolded.

"Well get your tail out of my way then," Alanna snapped, "it's my bed."

Muttering something about saving her life a few days ago, Faithful adjusted himself so that he was on top of her pillow. With a contented sigh, Alanna closed her eyes, thinking just to rest for a few moments.

"Alan? Alan, are you awake?"

_DAMN IT! _Alanna sat up, angry with herself for falling asleep. She sat up, wincing at the pain that spiked through her side.

"Alan, are you all right?" Duke Baird reached out, steadying her as she swayed from pain.

Alanna closed her eyes and focused on breathing for a moment. "Yes," she whispered finally. "How long've I been out?"

"Not long. Only two days."

"Good. How's Jon?"

"He's improving. He asked to see you once you were awake and well." He eyed her critically from under knit brows. "Are you _well_? Or just awake."

Alanna frowned crossly. "I'm as well as I'll ever be, sitting here in a bed," she replied sweetly. "Now, let me see my Prince."

Duke Baird nodded. "Very well, Alan. But don't keep him long. He needs rest more than you do. And mind the healing on your stomach wound--three broken ribs. _Three_!"

Alanna managed a half-smile for the Duke, who was clearly kidding by then, and went into the room at the back. She let herself in, shutting the door behind her. The room was dark, but her eyes adjusted rapidly. A dim light filtered through the only window, which had curtains over it. Alanna reached up to pull them away, but found that she was too short. Swearing, she climbed carefully on the bed next to Jon, got on her toes, and then pulled the hangings apart. Light flooded into the well cared for room.

With a sigh, Alanna seated herself on a stool and prepared to wait until Jon woke up. But as it turned out, she didn't have to wait long. Within a few minutes her prince was stirring, and opening a bleary blue eye.

"Alanna?" His voice was weak. He smiled softly. "I'm glad you're up."

"Me too," Alanna whispered, taking his hand and holding it. "I wish you were too, though."

He cracked a slightly wider smile. "I suppose you'll want to know what happened then?" She nodded. "Alex. . . He was the one who did the damage. He attacked me after that other man--"

"--Dreke--"

"--knocked you out. Okay, Dreke. Alex said that it was his job to hurt me, and that you'd been in the way. Dreke said that Alex had no right attacking you--as you were sleeping due to the drugging spell he'd used on you." Jonathan took a deep breath, then went on. "Anyway, Alex and I fought for a while. I don't know how I held his sword off that long. You and. . . and Uncle. . . and Uncle Gareth are--were--the only ones who could hold his sword off long. And then. . . Then Dreke called him a fool, and knocked Alex down."

Alanna bit down on her lip, feeling angry. Dreke had told her that he wouldn't actually kill Jon. So why had he tried? Was he a liar? A bigger one than Faithful thought. Or was he playing a game? A cruel, twisted game.

"What happened then?" Alanna asked, gripping Jon's hand in her own.

He took a breath, and went on. "He. . . Alex is dead, Alanna. Dreke killed him then. He drove a sword through his chest. For no reason. They were supposed to be on the same team! Things are bad when the men you're fighting start killing each other." Alanna saw tears on his face, and bit back her own. Gingerly she wiped the glistening tears off Jon's face. He turned his head to meet her eyes, and said, "Then he told me that Kirasarra is helping Roger."

Alanna shivered. "I know."

"You know? But how?"

"Kirasarra told me who she was too. She told me that Roger was trying to harness dangerous powers. And she was helping him so she could use them too. But I don't think she means to help him for forever. She's using him. I think she'll have enough power soon." Alanna bit her lip. Should she tell him? Yes. It was the right thing to do. "I had a dream last night. . ."

"And?" Jon prompted, when she didn't continue.

"I was in a weird place. The top of a peak. Tortall was spread out like a map below. And Corus was cloaked with yellow, orange, and storm gray magic. The orange has _got _to be Roger. The yellow's probably the man who used magic at Duke Gareth's death. Nicholas. And. . . George was in the dream. He helped me. Together we figured out that the storm gray magic was probably belonging to Dreke. George said he was shrouded in fog. And afterwards. . . I woke up and talked to Dreke. He wants me to help him. He doesn't want Roger on the throne. There are so many people he wants to kill. But you aren't one of them. He said he had no intention of killing you."

_But he tried. _Alanna turned to see Faithful washing a paw on the floor. _When you saw Jonathan the first time he was covered in gray magic. Around his wounds. How is that _not _trying to kill him? _

"You have a point," Alanna murmured, reaching out to stroke her cat's head.

"Alright, Alanna." Jon yawned. "I'm tired now. I'm going to go back to sleep. We'll talk more when I have enough energy to digest this all. C'mere."

Alanna leaned down, pushing her shoulder-length red hair behind her ear. Jon's breath tickled her face. He smiled, brushing more of her hair back. Jon put his hand on the back of her head, and leaned her face down to his. Their lips met with sweet passion. Alanna's heart soared as Jon wrapped his other arm around her neck. She balanced herself against the bed, one hand on either side of his head.

After a few minutes Alanna pulled back. Jon pulled her head down to his, and kissed her forehead. "I love you," he whispered. "No matter what happens, I _always _love you."

Alanna smirked, and kissed the tip of Jon's nose. "Bad boys have to go to bed. _Bad _boys aren't allowed to make love. Particularly not when they're injured and have bandages wrapped all over them."

Jon grinned, ruffling Alanna's hair. "Alright then. See you." He smiled. His eyes fluttered shut, and he waved.

Alanna scooped Faithful into her arms and kissed the purring cat's head. "Let's go," she whispered, walking through the door and into the main healing room.

**Sorry it was short, but I needed that filler. I'm having a hard time getting back into this story, hopefully next chapter will be good. Thanks for toughing it out. P.S. have you rabid Jon fans read "Animals" yet? Yes, Erin, I know you have. And a note from Erin (tortallanrider), my new beta. **(tee hee. I'd love to insert a beta note there: Go read "Animals", because it is extraordinary…even if you AREN'T a rabid Jon lover like myself, it is still extraordinary because of the writing.)


	18. The Nerve of Some

Her fingers broke into a cold sweat as Alanna grasped the man's hand. He lifted her up, and looked down at her, his eyes flashing with something she couldn't understand. "Now you will die," he whispered.

**Chapter Eighteen**

**One Year Ago:**

Alanna woke with a start, sweat coating her body. She looked around, shivering. She lay in her bedchambers, the one off of Jon's room. She had moved back to her room the night before. The window was open in hope of sucking in some non-existent cool breeze that the summer wouldn't offer. Darkness poured through it. The stars were pinpricks of beautiful light on the velveteen sky.

Alanna pushed her knuckles into her forehead, kneading it gently. "I can't remember it," she whispered to the dark. "I had a dream, but I don't remember what happened. Faithful?" Alanna croaked.

Faithful leaped softly onto her bed with a quiet _mrow_? He curled up on her stomach, purring softly, his violet eyes shining in the darkness. _The dream was about Kirasarra, wasn't it? _he asked, extending and retracting his claws over-and-over.

"I-I think so."

_Go back to bed, hope you dream again. _

"You're right." Alanna slid back under the light sheet, and closed her eyes. The dream she had called came to her. . .

_A girl in a squire's uniform stood on the top of a peak overlooking all of Tortall. Corus looked ill, cloaked with the three different colored Gifts. She looked up as the pounding of shod hooves sounded in her ears._

_Alanna turned to face them, instinctively drawing Lightning. The blade glimmered in the strange gray light that hung overhead. A shroud of black curled up from the ground like smoke, and a woman with black hair materialized, wearing a long black cape. Kirasarra smiled, at Alanna._

"_Dark Riders!" she called._

_The thundering of hooves grew louder, and the malformed black horses with wings appeared, their riders wearing black capes. The one in front climbed off his horse--which was somehow familiar--and knelt before Kirasarra._

"_Yes, my Goddess? What can we Dark Riders do for you?"_

_Kirasarra smiled broadly, showing her fangs. She turned her red eyes onto Alanna. Unblinkingly she said, "Kill her."_

"_As you wish." The man remounted his horse, and drew his sword. The shimmering black horse pulsed in the light, the red jewel in its hilt glowing. "Dark Riders, I will take the wench."_

_Something cold ran down Alanna's spine. She bit down on her tongue to yank back her screams of rage. Slowly she moved into a fighting stance. Wind whipped her red hair around her face, but she ignored it and the bite of the cold. _

_The other Dark Riders left, leaving only the one in front. He climbed down from his horse, and drew his black hood back. _

_Alanna stared._

_Dreke stared back. He shook his head, knocking his dirty-blond hair from his face. "I should have known you couldn't leave well enough alone. I should have known you would meddle in our affairs. People like you never leave well enough alone. Prepare to die." _

_He smiled, revealing jagged teeth, like Kirasarra's. He opened his mouth. A black snake came out between his teeth. Its diamond shaped head glittered like his sword. It hissed at Alanna._

_Dreke leapt forward. Alanna threw Lightning up to block, and rolled aside. He sliced inwards again. Alanna drove Lightning to the side, and then chopped to the other side, attempting to hit. Dreke blocked and brought his sword down. Alanna blocked it, spun, and tried to come under. But he was there to block it._

_She swung to the right, and he blocked, coming down. Alanna ducked to the right and swung Lightning. Then Alanna kicked out with her foot, trying to hit his knees. Dreke leapt over her foot and came down with his sword. _

_The fight went on, the two trading blows back and forth. Alanna tried to remember everything George had taught her; tried to fight dirty. But it wasn't easy. She blocked and attacked, and the two wore down quickly._

_Black smoke appeared at Dreke's left. Kirasarra appeared wearing a corset topped, black dress. "Stop," she whispered. Dreke lowered his sword. Alanna lowered Lightning, as if something in her arm pulled it down. "We don't have time for this," she told Dreke. "I will let you kill her later. Roger has done it at last. He's harnessed the magic. He will kill the royal family tonight."_

_Dreke grinned, and dropped his sword. "You win," he whispered. "Until next time."_

"_NO_!" Alanna sat bolt upright, knocking Faithful off her lap. Sweat poured off her forehead. Her palms were soaking. Her bedclothes were soaked through. Cold sweat ran down her spine. She climbed out of bed, and something warm dribbled down her leg. Alanna looked down.

. . . and gasped.

The black sword glistened on her bed, the ruby in its hilt shimmering along with the blade of the sword.

"Mithros kill your guts, Kirasarra!" Alanna snarled. She took the sword and buried it in her dresser, then hurried to get dressed. She put on her breeches and shirt. Over that she put on sturdy leather armor.

Alanna was pulling the ties on her chest protector shut when she heard swearing in the other room. She scooped up Lighting and bashed Jon's door down, charging in. Inside was Queen Lianne, King Roald, Roger, Dreke, and a man who looked almost exactly like Dreke. Nicholas, Alanna guessed.

The two brothers wore black, and Roger was dressed in fancy garments.

Roger spun on Alanna as she burst in, shooting magic at her. Alanna threw up her arm and muttered the shield spell as fast as she could. The orange magic bounced off a violet barrier.

Faithful trotted up behind Alanna, meowing. "Get Gary, Raoul, and Jon," Alanna instructed, throwing her magic into the shield spell as Roger struck it again.

Faithful meowed and took off at a run. Alanna glanced at the King and Queen. They seemed to be frozen in place by magic. She gripped the ember-stone, and saw them radiating with gray and yellow magic.

"Let them go!" Alanna snarled, moving her feet into a fighting stance as she threw off Roger's magical assault again. "They've never done anything to you!"

"Wrong," Roger snarled, throwing more magic at Alanna. "I can't be King because of their son."

"Then kill him," Alanna snapped, fighting for time. "It's me and Jon you want. Take us. Let them alone!"

"I think not," Roger replied icily. "I think I'll do this my way if you don't mind."

"Let 'em go you slime-bag."

Alanna looked over Roger's shoulder, and almost sighed with relief. Gary and Raoul stood in the doorway, their swords drawn. Gary lunged for Nicholas, and Raoul charged at Dreke, knocking him down.

Roger threw a magic bolt at Alanna. She shoved her magic forward, but she watched the violet light cave under his power. "I think not," someone whispered, his voice deadly. A wall of sapphire shot up between Alanna and the magic bolt. The orange fire crumpled against it.

"_YOU_!" Roger screamed, throwing his magic at Jon.

Jon threw up a shield and knocked his cousin's magic down. "I knew I should have listened to Alan," he went on, advancing on his cousin. "I should have known you were a monster. I should have trusted Alan." Jon's face was screwed up with rage as he put one foot in front of the other. He was inches from Roger's face.

Alanna glanced at Gary and Raoul. Raoul smashed the hilt of his sword into Dreke's face. The mage kicked Raoul across the stomach. Gary had his sword leveled at Nicholas's throat.

"Kill them!" Roger cursed. He threw his magic at the King and Queen.

Alanna launched her shield spell across them, but it buckled under Roger's magic. Dreke shoved Raoul off and launched his magic too. Nicholas kicked Gary to the floor, his magic joining the fray.

"ARGH!" Alanna screwed up her face in concentration, Lightning dropping from her grip. Jon launched his magic outwards, adding to her shield. Alanna held her hand out, and felt Jon latch onto it. She was reminded sickly of the Black City.

"_NO YOU DON'T_!" Gary threw himself at Roger, knocking him to the floor. Roger kicked the knight off, smashing him in the head with the hilt of a dagger. Gary crumpled to the floor, and didn't move.

Alanna squeezed down on Jon's hand, her nails biting into his palm. Jon held on tight, his fingers threatening to break hers as their magic mixed. Together they fought for all they were worth. But the three mages broke their wall.

Alanna fell to the ground, screaming as their shield collapsed. The King fell to the floor, the Queen following. Neither one of them moved.

Jon fell down next to Alanna, as she scooped up Lightning and lunged at Roger. Nicholas threw himself in the way. And paid the price.

Lightning swept across, and took his head off. Alanna kept going, even as his blood spattered her. She swung at Roger. But he was gone.

"_MITHROS AND THE GODDESS, KILL YOU_!" Alanna screamed, dropping to her knees, Lightning falling from her grip.

Raoul crawled to his feet, and put his arm around Alanna's shoulders. She shook with rage and pain at the same time. Slowly she inched her way over to Gary, and felt for a pulse. It beat slowly. He was alive.

"Go," she told Raoul, biting back the hotness at the corners of her eyes. "Just go," she muttered, shrugging his arm off.

Raoul let her be.

Alanna slammed her fist into the stone floor. "_You will die, Roger,_" she hissed dangerously. "Never fear, _I _will _kill you_."

**And that's it. Next chapter is the present, and probably the last chapter. I have already started writing the sequel. Note: For those of you who loved this, I'm sorry if you don't like it, but the sequel will be rated MA. Very apologetic. **


	19. No Turning Back

**Chapter Nineteen**

**The Present:**

"Get your hands off her, Dreke."

Alanna glanced past the man who was glaring at her. _Oh please, go Jon, go! _she thought angrily, clenching her fists. This was _her_ fight.

Jon came closer, his sword leveled at Dreke. "You killed my parents, you killed my friends. You will _not _kill her."

"I'm a knight!" Alanna snarled. It was true. She had survived her Ordeal, and now she was a knight of the realm. And now everyone knew she was a girl. "Jon, please. Go. I don't want you to get hurt. This is _my _fight."

Jon shook his head, his eyes locked on Dreke. "You don't get it, Alanna. You're all I have left. Dreke and Roger have killed everyone I love. Everyone except you. I love you."

Alanna growled, trying to fight back the tears in her eyes. She would _not _cry. It was touching, yes, but she was a _knight_. Knights did not cry. And besides, she couldn't love him. It was over for them, only he didn't know it yet.

Dreke smiled, glancing between Jon and Alanna. "As touching as this all is, I came here to kill you. And that is _exactly _what I plan to do. May I continue?"

A bolt of magic split the air, and Alanna launched herself to the side. The bolt chased her, and a blue barrier burst up in front of it. The magic died, shattering against the sapphire shield.

"I said _leave her alone_."

Dreke glanced at Jon, his eyes flashing. "And I said I came here to kill her. So let me."

"Forget it!" Alanna roared, leaping to her feet, Lightning already in hand. "As to both of you I'll fight my own battles, thank you very much." She pointed Lightning at Dreke. "Now, I'll kill you if you don't mind!"

"As a matter of fact," Dreke said lazily, hefting a silver-blue blade in his hand, "I do mind."

Alanna lunged, Lightning sweeping down. Dreke parried lazily, and brought his sword up. Lightning flashed in the moonlight, and blocked his blow. They were making such a ruckus that she wondered how no one else had come to help Dreke yet.

Another sword flashed into the fight, and Jon's blade caught on Dreke's. Alanna lunged forward, and Lightning sliced a fine cut in his side. He threw Jon's blade off, and kicked the younger man to the ground. Jon dropped and rolled, and was on his feet in a second. Lightning was up before Dreke could even try to strike, and he blocked widely as the smaller sword appeared in his face. Jon kicked him from behind, and Dreke's knees buckled. Alanna threw her shoulder into his stomach, and punched his face. She felt something give under her knuckles, and the warm gush of blood on her hand.

"Filthy wench!" Dreke snarled, dabbing at his bleeding nose with his shirt.

Jon hit Dreke in the side of the head with his sword's pommel, and Alanna drew Lightning across his throat. Blood spattered everywhere as Dreke gave his final death throes, and then was silent.

Alanna wiped Lightning on her breeches and sheathed it. Then she looked at Jon. His face was shadowed in the dark, but she could see the pain written in his expression. "I'm sorry," she whispered softly.

"What for?" Jon replied, his sword still in his hand.

"Everything." Alanna bit back a sob, and wiped irritably at the hotness at the corners of her eyes. "It's my fault all of this happened. If I hadn't been so Goddess damned eager to be a knight none of this would have happened." Then the tears did come, wiping tracks in the grime on her face. "I'm so, so, so sorry, Jon."

"It's okay," he whispered, putting his arms around her. The tears came hard as she cried into his chest. "It's too late now, Alanna. There's no turning back. Not now, not ever. It's the way it has to be."

At his words, anger surged in Alanna's chest. Her head beat with a thousand drums. "No, maybe there isn't," she managed, pulling back, and wiping tears from her face. "But there's at least one more man who has to die before I'm done."

"You're right."

Alanna pulled Lightning from its sheath, and watched as Jon followed suit. The nobles were all sitting around on the brick; laughing, talking, joking. None of them new what the two in the shadows had planned. Roger was seated at the center, dressed in gold robes and talking animatedly to a man in black.

In the darkness, Jon held out his hand. Alanna put Lightning in her left hand, and took his. Together they whispered a spell that Roger himself had taught them. It was a time blanket. It would slow time for everyone they cast it on. Pulling it taut around the whole area of nobles strained them, but they managed anyway.

Slowly, the nobles movement decreased. "Just get Roger," Jon warned, his face tight with the effort of the spell.

"No," Alanna said coldly. "They work with Roger. They all die tonight. It's the price they pay for getting on my bad side."

"No--"

But, Alanna had already lunged. She was in the group of nobles, Lightning flashing on them all before they could move to run. In the shadows, Jon cursed. If he moved, the spell would break, the nobles would be on Alanna. So, instead he was forced to watch as she killed those who might have been innocent.

Around Alanna the corpses of the dead dropped in slow motion. She turned on Roger, cold fury gleaming in her violet eyes. He stared, his expression stunned as he tried to fight out of the time-warp magic.

Lightning flashed once in the moonlight, and then Roger's head fell to the ground. Blood sprayed Alanna, but the cold joy in her eyes remained. Jon let the blanket drop and came to join her, bodies falling all around.

"Now, there's no turning back," Alanna said vehemently.

**Snigger. That's the last chapter. The epilogue is all that's left.**


	20. Epilogue

**A/N: **Between the last chapter and this, the events of The Woman Who Rides Like a Man, and Lioness Rampant occurred--to the extent that they could considering the differences I made.

**Epilogue:**

Alanna felt as if every nerve of her body was on end; ready to snap. Rispah, Queen of Thieves, kept telling her to be calm, but it had little effect. Faithful agreed profusely with Rispah, but still it had no effect.

"I can't believe I'm really doing this," Alanna told Rispah and Faithful for the thousandth time. "I can't really be marrying Jon, it's impossible!"

"You can," Rispah said soothingly, lacing up the back of Alanna's dress, "and you are. It won't help nobody to keep frettin' over it."

Alanna tried to take a steadying breath, but the ties of her dress were too tight. She wore a lilac shift, with a lilac summer-style gown over the top of it. Gold stitches rimmed the bottom of the skirt, the top of the low-cut bodice, and the rippling sleeves that just capped her shoulders.

Rispah pulled the bodice laces tighter, making Alanna gasp for breath. "It won't do no good unless it's tight," Rispah pointed out, yanking the strings again. "With breasts like yours we got to make it tight, or you're just Squire Alan in a dress."

"I wish I could have been Squire Alan forever. It would've made life so much simpler!"

Rispah cuffed the side of Alanna's head. "Don't forget who you're talkin' too, girlie. I'm the Queen of the Thieves. We Rogues don't take kindly t'those complainin' of life bein' too hard. We like a challenge. And you! You're Tortall's Lioness. I woulda thought you'd like a challenge too!"

Alanna rubbed her smarting head. "I do like a challenge," she protested. "I'm just not sure why I chose to marry Jon."

"Because you love adventure. What better way than to be Queen?"

Alanna sighed. Rispah had a point.

"Just your hair left t'do." Rispah fetched a hairbrush, and began dragging it through Alanna's hair, which went just past her shoulder blades.

"Ouch!" Alanna yelped, raising a hand to her hair. "That hurt you know." Rispah only smirked. "You did that on purpose!" Alanna accused. Rispah grinned wider.

_How about you just tell her? _Faithful suggested from his perch on the bed.

_Sure_, Alanna thought wryly. _I want to know what would happen if Rispah knew? Knew that half the reason I agreed to marry Jon was because I lost my pregnancy charm and made love with him anyway? And now I'm carrying his child? Wonderful way to make everyone hate me even more! Good idea Faithful! _

Alanna knew Faithful couldn't hear her, but she felt better anyway.

Rispah pulled a thin thong from a pouch on her belt, and pulled Alanna's hair into a horse-tail high on her head. Rispah took the horse-tail in her fingers, and twisted it into a bun. Alanna's violently red hair stuck out around the bun, forming a slightly flyaway look. Rispah left them loose as she tied another thong around the bun. She patted it.

"There you go. You're all done," Rispah picked up the lilac veil and slipped it on, pushing it down over Alanna's face. "Now, just look up through your eyelashes. It'll make you look like a modest maiden. We're goin' for the pure, maiden, virgin look."

Alanna snorted with laughter. "What would you know about any of that? We're both ladies of mens' work. Both proud to be."

"Never you mind," Rispah said, lifting Faithful into her arms. "I've had practice bein' someone I'm not. Let's leave it at that."

Faithful purred as Rispah stroked his head. Alanna stuck her tongue out at him. "Some friend _you _are," she complained.

_I know_, Faithful replied, rubbing his head against Rispah's hand.

"Let's get goin' then," Rispah said cheerily, rubbing a finger down Faithful's spine.

Alanna made another face at Faithful, and followed Rispah from the room.

She waited behind a set of double doors, listening to the music on the other side. Her nerves were on end, even as Myles droned about some bit of a paper he had found.

The double doors opened, and Alanna clung to Myles' arm as they walked down the isle. _Focus on Jon_, she told herself. _Bad idea_, she amended after looking at him for a second. Jon was dressed in black breeches, a white shirt, and a royal blue tunic with silver around the sleeves and hem. His hair was falling gently in his face, masking one of his beautifully bright sapphire eyes.

The music stopped, and Alanna almost lunged from Myles' arm to Jon's, wanting something to hang onto. Jon held her up by the arm as the priest droned on about their marriage and how wonderful it was. No one else thought it was wonderful. Jonathan was marrying the Lady Knight. The Lioness. No one wanted the Lioness as queen. Come to think of it, Alanna wasn't sure she wanted to be queen either.

_Too late now_, she thought bitterly.

"You may kiss the bride," the priest said.

Jon turned to Alanna, meeting her eyes for a second. In that second she felt as if he had said, "It's alright, Alanna. Being Queen won't be so bad." His fingers shook as he reached for her veil, and pulled it back over her head.

Alanna breathed, trying to stay calm. No one should have to hold her up. But Jon's hands were firm on her waist, and she was grateful. His face came down to hers, and their lips met. She let her eyelids drop, and felt the warmth of his breath in her mouth. His tongue flicked across her lips, and a shiver dropped down her spine.

They drew back from one another. But Jon hovered by her ear just long enough to whisper, "There's no turning back." before the crowd broke into applause, however stilted it was.

**Ta-da! That's it. The end. Well, not really. I'm working on the sequel already. It's about Alanna and Jon's children--their twins to be exact. It's called Into the Dark, so be sure to keep an eye out for that. It'll be rated T, probably, but maybe M by the way, so I'm sorry if you don't like that. I hope you liked this! Hope to see you soon! **BETA NOTE- I, for one, cannot WAIT for the sequel. If you DO NOT read it, Alanna will be sent to kick your butts.


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